


For Your Consideration

by dorkery



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Murder, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-14 09:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 48
Words: 33,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkery/pseuds/dorkery
Summary: It was just harmless flirtation, honest. And what was he but a bad flirt? He didn't even think he stood a chance.Gaius wasn't in the business of breaking hearts. Stealing hearts, however, was a niche he was willing to explore.==========In the vein ofA Gentle Whisper, I give to you slice of life slow burn Gaius/fem!Robin with slight canon-divergence





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after Support Conversation A.
> 
> Irregular updates and plenty of short chapters. Can be read as divergent from [A Gentle Whisper](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4534803) from Chapter 14, if you want.
> 
> ETA: THERE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE A PLOT BUT I ACCIDENTALLY CAME UP WITH A PLOT

Gaius blinked.

He wasn’t entirely sure if he was correctly seeing what he thought he was seeing, so he rubbed his eyes to be sure. And there it was again. Huh. 

He absentmindedly unrolled a sucker from its wrapper and placed it in his mouth, eyes still glued to the filigree pendant that was dangling from Robin’s neck, a good three inches above her generous cleavage. Er. Not that he was thinking about her cleavage. Or getting an eyeful of it. He’d only just given the pendant to her the day before and this was the first time he saw her wearing it. 

It looked good. He’d smelted a fine blend of gold and platinum to produce a warm, honey coloured metal which gleamed prettily against her pale skin. Didn’t think she’d be wearing it in the field, to be honest.

It was pretty flattering.

His thoughts strayed to honeycomb designs using the same blend of metals when he felt a gentle rap against the back of his head. He glanced back owlishly, a hand automatically moving to flatten any stray hairs.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Robin asked in amusement, as though she hadn’t just tapped his head with a sheaf of papers, and when had she moved? “That’s some serious wool gathering going on.”

“I want a beehive.”

She raised an eyebrow, “I take that back.”

 _It’s for research_ , he thought reflexively and decided he wasn’t really interested in this particular line of conversation, “I’d rather not have a repeat of what happened with Stumbles.” His eyes flickered back down to her collarbone, “I take it you like the necklace.”

She touched it with a gloved hand, gaze softening, “Very much, yes.”

“That’s good to know,” and damned if he didn’t feel inordinately pleased with himself, “I, uh, wasn’t sure if you did.”

She looked at him like he was a very special and stupid child, “Do you really think I’d wear something I hated?”

“Hey, people do things they hate all the time, just to make someone else happy. Like laundry.”

“Gaius, it’s _basic hygiene_.”

“I still hate it.”

“Don’t you like being clean?”

“I love it,” his tone was clipped, “Not so much laundry.”

Robin sighed as though she realised it was a lost cause, “If you’re free could you help me with something?”

He hopped off his perch immediately. “Anything,” he said, and meant it. He didn’t think too hard on this.


	2. Chapter 2

Gaius carefully snipped off a honeysuckle from its tree with the knife hidden up his wrist and popped the stem into his mouth, sucking on the nectar in bliss. Spring was great. There was plenty of natural sweets littering the wide expanse of the Ylissian plains, though they were subtler in taste when compared to his own homemade stash. And flowers were small. They lasted two, three minutes at best. You had to keep snipping more of them to really get enough for satisfaction’s sake. Still, there was something about flowers that made him not mind so much. Nostalgia from his youth, maybe. Flowers were cute. 

_Robin_ was cute as she looked at him, politely puzzled, from where she had been stripping a rogue mage of their unused tomes. 

“What are you doing?”

“Getting some sugar,” Gaius twirled the flower in his mouth for emphasis.

“That’s a flower.”

“And that’s some uncanny observation skills.”

She rolled her eyes, “How can you get sugar from a flower?”

Gaius paused, “Never sucked on nectar before?”

Something flashed in her eyes, but it was gone in moments, “Not as far as I recall, no.”

“Well, I guess it’s your lucky day,” Gaius said, crooking a finger at her and gesturing her over, “Come here.”

A token protest followed, and after she finished divesting her enemies of their goods (mostly magical in nature, and Gaius had already pocketed the smaller expensive stuff already), she approached him, curious and wary. Gaius pulled a branch positively teeming with honeysuckle closer, indicating where to cut before he did so. He offered the flower to her, which she took.

For a brief moment, Robin hesitated, and then brought the honeysuckle closer to smell. She closed her eyes and inhaled softly.

For some reason, Gaius felt like there was a lump in his throat.

He’s watched her plenty of times, of course, but he realised he barely had the proximity or the luxury of simply looking at her face, particularly in unguarded moments such as these. Without a furrow in her brow, without her chewing her lip thoughtfully, without the hunted look in her eyes. Her lashes were long, fluttering as her lips curved into a smile. It was hard to breathe. Funny how he needed some air despite being in a wide open field.

“So,” he finally said when she opened her eyes again, “You see the stem? That’s where the gold is.”

“Really?” She alternated her gaze between the flower and Gaius dubiously.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“… No.”

Still, her eyes flickered to his own honeysuckle, hanging casually from the corner of his mouth, and capitulated. She put the stem of the flower between her lips and began to suck. After a moment, the sceptical look on her face changed as her eyebrows shot up. She stared at him in wonder. 

“It’s… It’s sweet. Wow.”

“Bees. Nectar. Honey. You get the gist of it. Pretty neat trick, huh?” Gaius asked casually as he plucked another flower for himself, spitting out the first honeysuckle after a full minute of it having gone completely bland. Without thinking, Gaius put the freshly-plucked flower behind Robin’s ear, tucking it in her hair.

She looked at him in surprise. He forced himself not to notice as he busied himself with another blossom and she faintly touched her hair.


	3. Chapter 3

“I can’t see.”

Gaius nodded, “Because you’re short.”

She wasn't actually short, but the smack upside the head was worth it. Gaius somehow managed to keep his poker face on even as he smoothed his hair, with Robin trying in vain to tiptoe high enough that she could see over the crumbling wall that separated them from the brigands at the foot of the hill. She gave in to some slight hopping, to no avail.

The trek up had been annoyingly treacherous but she had insisted. Something about getting a better view of enemy formations. Hey, it wasn’t Gaius’ place to question. Like Lon’Qu said; the boss gives the orders, he just stabs people. Gaius was only here to keep the pretty hair on her pretty head untouched (mostly). Which was arguably a bonus. 

Gaius thought about it briefly.

Nah, it was definitely a bonus. Robin was a sight for sore eyes. And she hadn’t treated him with that gleam of distrust, like the other goody-two-shoes Shepherds had. Not that he blamed them. Still, it was nice. Felt like someone had his back. 

He slowly turned to look at Robin.

Then again, all things considered, he sort of understood why she was nice to him. It wasn’t like she was completely clear of their suspicions. He’d overheard some of the mutterings about how she was an unknown, with no past, wearing some awfully Plegian robes, that kind of claptrap. Not that it really concerned him. She wanted to be friends on account of being an outsider? Fine by him. Chrom paid him, so he did whatever it was Chrom wanted. Fortunately, for the most part, it meant doing whatever Robin told him to do. 

Which was nice. Almost didn’t feel like work. Almost.

“I could dangle from the top and tell you what I see,” he finally said, interrupting her increasingly frustrated efforts to peer over the wall. She deliberated his offer.

“You could,” she finally conceded, reluctantly, “But I prefer seeing for myself…”

“I could carry you.”

She looked taken aback, blinking rapidly at him, “W-what?”

“Carry you. I could carry you. You could sit on my shoulders. I could even give you a piggy back ride, though you might get a crick in your neck since you could only look at an angle. I may not be ripping at the seams like Gregor or Lon’Qu, but I assure you I’m pretty darn strong myself. Washboard abs, as I said. Want me to prove it?” He began to lift the hem of his shirt, and Robin quickly smacked his hand away, bright red.

“That’s quite all right, thank you,” she said, unable to look him in the eye, “I’ll… take your word for it.”

“Right. So what’ll it be?”

“Couldn’t you…” She struggled, “Couldn’t you boost me up onto the wall?”

“I could,” he rolled his shoulders nonchalantly, “But then you’d be seen. Defeats the purpose. Unless you want to be seen.”

“Good point,” she sighed, “I suppose there’s no two ways about it. What would, er, be the least… taxing method?”

He thought it over, “Sitting on my shoulders is probably best for you and me.”

Robin sighed again, “All right. Let’s get this over with. What do I do?”

He circled her, eyeballing her up and down briefly, which seemed to make her tense. He filed that thought away for another time, “Face the wall, lift up your robe, spread your legs and bend your knees. And don’t freak out.”

She obeyed but her voice betrayed her puzzlement, “Don’t freak out? Why would I—”

Gaius quickly bent over, putting his head between her legs, clamping them down onto his shoulders with his hands, and _stood_. He stumbled briefly, adjusting his stance so that he could maintain his balance. After a wobbly moment, he felt Robin relax as she placed her hands flat on the wall for security. 

“Okay,” she said with a slightly shaking voice, “I understand why you said that.”

“The only way this will be awkward is if you decide to make it awkward,” Gaius grunted, “So be cool.”

He felt her chuckle breathlessly, “Point taken. Now let’s see about those brigands…”

She began muttering about formations and some other strategy gobbledegook. Gaius mostly tuned her out as he focused on keeping them both upright, realising he really needed to work out more. His shoulders were _sore_. Were there even muscles in your shoulders?

“All right, I think I have what I need,” Robin said. Sweet mercy.

He debated with himself for a moment. And then he decided to give in to the impulse.

“Best lay off the bear, Bubbles.”

She spluttered above him before deciding to twist his ear in retribution until he threatened to drop her. He knew she was going to kick him or something once she was on the ground but, you know.

Worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

“Padre, could you help a gent out?”

“Yes, of course,” Libra moved to stand, halting briefly as he glanced at the face of the man requesting his assistance, “… Should I ask?”

“Y’know, the usual,” Gaius replied amiably, almost dropping himself onto one of the benches in Libra’s tent with a pained grunt, “Rescue a girl from a swarm of bees, another girl panics and throws a soap dish at the bees which hits you in the face, then you bring down a tent and the entire Ylissian armory down on you. And then you get stung by bees.” 

Libra winced in sympathy, “How are you feeling right now?”

“Ever been in so much pain that you don’t even know what pain feels like anymore?”

“All right then,” Libra nodded, retrieving his staff and guiding Gaius to lie down, “I’ll endeavour to be as gentle as I can.”

“Knew there was a reason I liked you,” Gaius replied, “Aside from your dazzling beauty, of course.”

“In anyone else, chatter like that would indicate delirium,” Libra said as he began casting his healing spell, “From you, however, it’s assurance that you’ll likely end up fine.”

“You hitting on me, Padre?” Gaius slurred, eyelids growing heavy with magic rather than the swelling of bee stings, “I demand to be taken to tea first… with lots of cake… and cookies… and scones! … and…”

“Tea, cake, cookies, scones,” Libra humoured him, focusing his powers over Gaius’ face, where the brunt of the damage had taken place. He could see the skin and bone of his nose slowly mending under the glow from his hands, “Anything else you need, Gaius?”

“Lady’s gratitude,” he grunted, head lolling to the side drowsily as he let the magic do its work. Libra could only chuckle.

“I apologise if I don’t fit the bill then.”

Before Gaius could respond, someone tore through the tent, looking frazzled, face red from exertion.

“Gaius! Is he here?”

Libra paused, “Robin. Did you need something of Gaius?”

“He’s here then?” Her eyes darted down to the bench. Feigned or not, Gaius chose that moment to affect a low, drawn out groan. Although it made Libra only slightly roll his eyes – the man was halfway to patched up at this point – Robin was by his side in a heartbeat, taking Gaius’ hand into hers, patting it gently.

“Oh Gaius, you look awful,” she said, blanching. Right on cue, Gaius groaned again, turn his head to press against her lap. She immediately stroked his hair away from his sweat-streaked forehead. 

Libra could swear he saw a self-satisfied look on Gaius’ face.

“How bad is it, Libra?” Robin turned her dark, pleading eyes to the priest. Libra blinked once before he gathered his wits about him once again. Before he spoke, Gaius opened his _very lucid_ eyes, meeting Libra's own gaze. Somehow, he was able to wordlessly communicate his feelings on the matter of his condition through significant glances alternating between Robin and Libra, and Libra could already feel a headache coming on. Well, he wasn’t going to _lie_ to Robin, but he could guess what Gaius had in mind. 

He began with a sigh (realising that Robin was misconstruing it for a bad diagnosis as opposed to long-suffering friendship, and also knowing full well that Gaius knew all this and was eating it up even as he snapped his eyes shut firmly), “Well, as you can see, he’s practically injured from head-to-toe. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was ambushed by bandits, and then caught a beehive to the face.”

Robin tightened her grip on Gaius’ hands, dropping her gaze to the floor, “… dish.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It was a soap dish. He caught a soap dish to the face. Gods, but I feel absolutely terrible.”

“Well, I'm sure it's not as bad as you're imagining it to be.”

“I broke his nose, Libra.”

“Er, right.”

“And I… I must have thrown it so hard that… Gracious, I sent him straight into the supply tent and all those weapons started raining down on him… and then the tent itself collapsed on him… I could hardly stand it… And then those _bees_ …”

Somehow, Libra managed to stifle a snort and a wince simultaneously. He was sure he looked foolish but fortunately no one seemed to be paying his face any attention. Gaius seemed to basking in the glow of Robin’s concern, though it could have easily been the light of the Heal spell instead.

“As you can see,” Libra said softly, after taking a moment to compose himself, “He’ll be fine in no time. It was good that he came directly for treatment after his… mishap. Fortunately, he didn’t break any bones, er, except the one on his face, but that clearly is mended now. He will need some ointment for the bee stings after I am done. Otherwise, there's not much else to do except to rest.”

Gaius cracked an eye open and glared at Libra.

Libra sighed.

“Perhaps you could watch him while I search for the ointment? Which, I believe, is in the collapsed supply tent and will take me some time to procure?”

“Of course!” Robin said in a rush, “Gladly! Anything to help Gaius.”

He shook his head with a smile as he pulled back the flap of his tent, “Perhaps tea will lift his spirits when he’s better.”

Gaius flashed him a thumbs up. Libra rolled his eyes and made his exit.


	5. Chapter 5

Gaius groaned, turning his head again. Immediately he felt a gloved hand gently stroking his hair. He allowed his eyes to flutter open, but made sure his gaze remained unfocused.

“Are you awake?” Robin asked quietly, “I can’t begin to articulate how sorry I am…”

He had enough practice doing this. What was a thief but a consummate liar? 

“Bubbles?” Gaius asked woozily, as though heavily drugged. He squinted up at Robin, “Am I dead?”

She went a shade paler, wincing at the perceived pain he must be in, “I promise you’re not. I’d never forgive myself if you went out in such an… an _embarrassing_ way. And by _my_ hand.”

“Right,” he said, voice cracking once. _Damn_ , but he was a great actor, “Thought I was in heaven for a second, because you’re gorgeous as an angel,” he said with a drunken grin.

Gaius was gratified to see Robin turn red up to the very tips of her ears. And then, against her will, she let out a choked snort which gave way to a belly-deep, keeling-over, slapping-the-thigh kind of laughter, like all the tension chose in that instant to flood out of her like a broken dam. And Gaius would have appreciated his ability to affect her this way if it weren’t for the fact that her movement made a spike of pain shoot down Gaius’ side and he curled slightly with a hiss.

“I know I’m not dead for sure, it wouldn’t hurt so damned much,” he muttered, “And heaven’s no place for a craven like me anyway.”

He didn’t see it, but Robin’s expression softened and she gently laid her hand on his forehead, smoothing away his bangs so she could see his face. It was such a nice feeling, to be touched like that, the furrow left Gaius’ brow.

“I’m sorry, did I make it worse?”

“You’re making it better now,” he murmured.

She couldn’t help the laugh. “Honestly, you. The healing magic must have made you go insane. Or delirious.” He opened his eyes to look at her. She was still red, but at least she was smiling, “It figures your jokes get even worse when you’re not in the right state of mind.”

“I’m never in the right state of mind around you.”

“See? There it is again. I’m not even sure if that’s meant to be a compliment or an insult.”

“Which one do you want it to be?” And somehow that stupid grin he plastered on came far too naturally. And Robin must have sensed it, because she paused bodily, flustered and worried all at once.

“… Gaius? Are you… are you _sure_ you’re all right?”

“No.”

She let out a breath, “Of course. Stupid question.”

“Keep doing that,” Gaius murmured, closing his eyes, “It feels nice.”

Tentatively, Robin resumed stroking his hair, her initial embarrassment eventually seeping away as she allowed herself to be carried by the tenderness of the moment. Gaius seemed to sigh in relief and he made himself comfortable on her lap, which, under normal circumstances, she would have given him an earful for. Now though, it seemed as though she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but offer this small comfort.

And… dash it all. Although he’d planned on making Robin squirm for her part in the destruction of his body, this was… _nice_. Far too nice. Far too _good_ for the likes of him. For all he knew, this could have just been a fever dream. But dream or no, he fully intended to make it last for as long as he could because…

Well. Gaius deserved a lot of things. 

This wasn’t one of them.


	6. interlude i

As Robin inventoried their supplies, she noted wryly that someone had changed the final invoice to include some extra provisions which she most certainly knew they wouldn’t normally stock. An extra barrel of rock sugar? Really? This was Gaius’ hand at work. That incorrigible sneak.

It was bad enough he’d sent her on a wild goose chase for some sort of rare honey as penance for the bees/soap dish/tent incident. That had wasted a good deal of coin and many hours spent on more productive endeavours. The dastard hadn’t even batted an eyelash at her, completely preoccupied with the treat which she swore he’d all but spirited away from her grip. He had been so _glib_ about it. It almost made her… well. No. No, she was a grown woman. She wouldn’t let herself be tossed about like a leaf in the breeze because of an… an overgrown child. That was Gaius’ way. No reason to get hurt by it. 

More importantly, now she had one more barrel of sugar and one less trunk of shields. She was going to beat some sense into that thief. With her _fists_ if need be.

“Robin, is something wrong? You look like you’re about to set something on fire with your eyes.”

“Cordelia,” she nodded her acknowledgement, not slowing her step as the other woman fell in beside her, “I’m just about to go pay our resident thief a visit.”

“Oh? What’s he made off with now?”

“More like, ‘What’s he saddled you with now?’”

Cordelia chuckled, “Well it’s about time I inspected his appearance anyway.”

They all but marched across camp to the mess tent, where Gaius and Gregor were chatting over some snacks. It was an odd enough sight; both rarely spent time together. It was Gaius who saw them first. He raised a hand in a lazy salute.

“Well, well, well. What brings two beautiful ladies here today?”

Robin rolled her eyes, used to the flirting by this point, though the less said about Cordelia’s blushing, the better. She crossed her arms, scowling at the man.

“Do you have something you want to say to me, Gaius?”

He blinked at her, innocent as a lamb. The dastard. “That I think you’re pretty as a picture?”

“That’s obviously not it, though I’ll thank you for the compliment.”

“Then Robin must also accept much compliments from Gregor!” The sell sword boomed, having been ignored for long enough, “Truly, the two most radiant flowers spending time with old man such as Gregor makes him feel much happiness to be the living!”

“Despite being swords for hire, you certainly don’t lack for silver in your tongues,” Cordelia muttered. 

Robin quickly stuck the bill of goods under Gaius’ nose, shaking it for good measure.

“The Shepherds have no need of rock sugar. At all. Whatsoever.”

“Y’don’t say,” Gaius began disinterestedly, but she had been watching him for long enough that she could recognise the gleam in his eyes, “What’s a Shepherd to do with,” he made a show of squinting at the paper, “An entire barrel of rock sugar then?”

“It’s a useful enough commodity,” Robin narrowed her eyes at him, despising this stupid game but feeling vindictive enough to play it, “It’s easy enough to sell in the next village, given they’re not on the trading path. And we could use the funds to procure _useful_ equipment.”

“What?” He gasped, “N-no! I mean, uh, surely there are things you could do with it? In the immediate future? And it’s not like rock sugar is _wholly_ without its uses…”

“Funny. Sounds like you have ideas on how an army can fight on rock sugar, rather than _shields_.”

“You’re breaking my heart here, Bubbles,” Gaius pleaded, and oh, she _wouldn’t_ be swayed by his puppy dog eyes. She _wouldn’t_. He’d just wasted the army’s money on… on sweets! “Are you turning a suspicious eye on yours truly?”

“ _Gaius_.”

He raised both palms up placatingly, “The only intentions in my bandity heart are good ones! Honest! Even when I’m busy divesting folk of their worldly goods, it’s all for a nobler purpose!”

“I’d rather you _explained_ why our _armoury_ is undersupplied in favour of _sugar_.”

He scratched his nose, poker face maddeningly still intact even as she could _see him_ thinking up an answer.

“… a typographical mistake?”

“Oh, for the love of,” Robin threw her hands in the air and swore an oath, “I’ll obviously not be getting a straight answer from you. Why I bother, only the Gods know. If you did this for a good reason, it’s something I’d rather hear from _you_. And if it’s a stupid, selfish reason, then at least I’d know to—”

Robin cut herself off, realising suddenly that she was going on and on, and in the company of others. It wasn’t as though Gaius didn’t deserve it, but she didn’t want to end up saying anything she would regret. She heaved an aggravated sigh, burying her face in her hands and counting backwards from ten. Once she was able to see something other than the colour red, she lowered her hands and took in a sharp breath. 

“Fine. What’s done is done. I’ll just completely rework my plan and have less one-handed fighters in the next roster.”

Without casting anyone else another glance, Robin stormed off.


	7. Chapter 7

“Oy, oy, oy,” Gregor muttered – well, as much as a booming-voiced guy like Gregor could mutter, “That could have been going the better, no?”

“Yeah,” Gaius said, frowning, “Yikes.”

“I don’t think it was necessary to needle her like that, Gaius.”

“I thought I was normal, though?” Gaius said, struggling slightly at the thought, “She’s never gotten this mad before…”

“’Before’? Oh, Gaius, this is a _repeat_ offence? What on earth are we going to do with you? Of _course_ she’s going to get mad if you keep replacing orders for armour for orders for groceries.”

“Gaius, you silly boy,” Gregor clucked as he shook he head, “Robin is very busy woman. She carries much stress and responsibilities. If you want to playing the pranks, maybe don't doing it with impact to militia coffers.”

“Ugh, all right, enough with the lectures,” Gaius grumbled, shoving Gregor away without any real strength, “I’ll go apologise.”

“You better find an alternative for those shields, Gaius,” Cordelia said warningly, “Apologies mean nothing without real intent to fix the issue.”

“I heard you the first time,” he sighed, cracking his neck once before he gloomily made his way across camp and towards Robin’s tent.


	8. Chapter 8

To find that Robin was nowhere in sight.

“Where on earth could she be?” He asked himself in an undertone, “The war tent?”

“Looking for someone?” And that made Gaius just about jump five feet into the air.

“Criminy, Blue, give a man some warning next time,” he said, placing a hand over his heart in an effort to calm it down.

“Sorry, Gaius, I thought you’d heard me,” Chrom said with an apologetic smile. He gestured towards the tent they were standing in front of, “You’re needing Robin, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah. Seen her anywhere?”

“She was taking inventory, last I heard.”

“Well that makes two of us,” Gaius muttered.

“What do you need?”

“Oh, the usual,” he replied evasively, “Nothing terribly important.”

“If you say so,” Chrom replied dubiously, “Are you free now?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“How’s a spar sound?”

“Ha,” Gaius allowed a grin to curl at the corner of his mouth, “Tired of recuperation, are we?”

“I’ll die of boredom before I die of my wounds,” he rolled his eyes, “And you’re a sly fighter, so I know you’ll just dance circles around me without inflicting any real hits.”

“Just say I fight like a coward, Blue. It’s nothing that’ll hurt my feelings.”

“You said it, not me,” he grinned, “But I wouldn’t say that you fight like a coward.”

“Well, between nice and handsome, I’ve got handsome taken care of, so I’ll thank you for being nice.”

Chrom laughed, “How’s that spar then?”

Gaius shrugged, “Yeah, sure, I’ve got time. Not like you’re at full strength anyway.”


	9. Chapter 9

Crivens, but Chrom was an absolute beast, even when he wasn’t at full strength. If Gaius didn’t dance circles around him, he’d probably be nursing several broken bones. And this was just a friendly spar.

As it were, Chrom was lying down on the grass, eyes closed as he panted for breath. Gaius sat with his legs loosely crossed, weight supported by both hands as he peered up at the evening sky. 

“I don’t understand how you can move that fast,” Chrom wheezed, “Especially given the amount of junk you eat.”

“Insulting my palate isn’t going to win you any points,” Gaius sniffed, “Even if points from a brigand are useless.”

“One day, I’ll get you to fight me properly.”

“I’ll be sure to invite everyone to the funeral, then.”

“Ha! That confident, are you?”

“That you’ll destroy me? Yes.”

Chrom's good natured laugh eventually melted away into a comfortable silence that settled between them. Overhead, the sky was overcast, clouds a brilliant smear of orange. Gaius could feel the heat settle, the smell of earth and grass mingling with the scent of elderflowers in bloom. He could feel a buzzing against his skin, unsure if it was the tingle of drying sweat or the sandflies that were flittering nearby.

It was a good opportunity for a nap.

With that in mind, Gaius closed his eyes and flopped down onto his back, taking in a deep breath. 

“Oh, hello,” he heard Chrom murmur, “You’ve got good timing.”

“I wager,” it was a woman’s voice, and Gaius felt his insides tingle pleasantly, and then shrink a little, “I’m certain Maribelle said you needed rest, Chrom.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He could _hear_ Robin rolling her eyes, “Catching your breath after having the tar beaten out of you.”

“Well, I never.”

“Wash up and get dinner, Chrom.”

“That my own friend would turn on me in this way.”

Robin giggled, and Gaius felt his insides shrink even more, “Chrom, please.”

“Only because you said ‘please’,” Chrom grumbled, sighing melodramatically, “The lengths I go to…”

“Oh, stop it,” she said, unable to hold back the laughter. It was a sweet sound, the sound of someone in love and being teased by, well, y’know, “If you go quietly, I promise not to breathe a word to the healers.”

“You promise?”

“You have my word,” she said solemnly. He heard them exchange private chuckles, and then footfalls walking away. Gaius let out the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding in. It was hard to see them flirting with each other, oblivious to the looks of adoration they seemed to share. It was enough to induce projectile vomiting, to be honest. He wished Chrom would find the stones to kiss Robin already. It’s not like she made it particularly _hard_. She was receptive, and pretty, and very nice. And had a great rack. Among other stellar qualities.

“Uh, Gaius…”

His eyes snapped open. Standing over him was the very same Robin, expression obscured by shadow as she stood in the path of the setting evening sun.

“Oh,” he said, lump in his throat, “Bubbles. Didn’t… didn’t realise you were still around.”

“Yes, well…” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking away briefly, “I think I owe you an apology.”

Gaius blinked. Then, he pushed himself to sit up so he could look at her.

“I’d heard from Cherche… the merchant who’d sold the shields was a conman, wasn’t he? And you’d known that there was a shortage in our stores. I hadn’t even realised the extra orders for flour and salt.”

“Uh,” Gaius said intelligently. 

“Still! You should have told me these things! Then I wouldn’t have let it out on you like some common fishwife.”

And honestly, all he could do was grin.

“Why are you smiling? Stop smiling like that.”

“You’re awfully cute when you’re mad,” he finally said with a laugh, “And terrifying. But still cute.”

“And stop trying to spoil an apology,” she sighed, dropping down onto the grass beside him, “I mean it. You should have just spoken to me, told me what was wrong. You know I’d understand. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I know,” he sighed in return, “To be totally honest? I forgot. And I… well I did have nefarious purposes for the rock sugar.”

She nodded, “You made sweets for the barracks, because it was Sumia’s birthday.”

“… How’d you know?”

She looked at him.

“… Point taken, stupid question.”

“Will you promise to tell me when things like these happen in the future?” And when he looked away, both her hands grasped his shoulder, “Please?”

This was certainly a position he hadn't intended of finding himself in. Not that it was wholly unwelcome. A smug part of him was thinking, well here Robin was, clinging to him, demanding his attention, and not, say, _Chrom's_. It was stupid and it was petty, but it made him feel good about himself. There wasn't much for him to be happy about (candy and money notwithstanding, though he seemed to find himself in ample company of both nowadays) so he'd take the pettiness and deal with the guilt later, the only way he knew how: By baking his feelings into a pie, and feeding that pie to the people he'd privately wronged.

More importantly, in that very moment, he found himself looking down at Robin, whose soft brown eyes were beseeching him, holding him like he meant something, and how couldn't it melt a brigand's heart?

“Well, when you look at a guy like that, how can he say no?” Gaius murmured, absentmindedly tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She seemed to realise the position they were in and reddened, quickly pulling away, unable to look Gaius in the eye.

He cleared his throat, averting his gaze, “I promise. And… I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t really plan on making you mad.”

“Yes, well,” she coughed as well, “Water under the bridge?”

“Sure,” he said.

That was it, apology over. And it was going to be dinner soon anyway. 

But she didn’t move, and neither did he. 

And the sun set just like that.


	10. interlude ii

“A what now?”

“A Harvest Festival, you silly!” Lissa explained as though talking to a very stupid child, “When was the last time we could go to one without having people throwing themselves at our feet?”

Chrom threw her a sullen look, but used enough to the ribbing, he pondered her words, “That’s a fair point.”

“A FAIR point! Now you’re getting the idea!”

“… You are spending far too much time with Henry.”

“We need to go! _I_ need to go! Chrom, think of morale! Think of the games and the food! Think of the _beds in the inns_!.” 

“Okay, hold on, now you’re just listing out what _you_ want—”

“Think of _my_ morale! And weren’t you the one who said that I was the militia’s mood maker? How can I make other people happy if _I’m_ not happy? Do you want people to be unhappy?” Lissa gasped, covering her mouth with a hand, eyes wide, “Chrom, do you hate happiness?”

Another gasp, “You hate happiness, Chrom?”

“Now see here—”

“I never would have thought…”

“Oh, for the love of—” Chrom entreated the sky, “Frederick! A little help?”

The man opened his mouth, about to defend Chrom’s decision, when Lissa interjected, “THINK OF THE FOOD!”

He paused, turning her words over. Then, with a troubled face, he just looked at Chrom silently and shook his head. Chrom cursed under his breath and turned to his tactician.

“Robin! _Please_!”

“No can do, Your Highness,” she said, amused, “If you’re going to crush everyone’s happiness, I want no part in it. They’ve only started to like me.”

“Et tu?” He scowled at her, “I thought you cared about me.”

Lissa let loose a more genuine (and loud) gasp, launching herself at Robin, clinging to her like she was something precious and breakable (and her brother’s ultimate weakness), “Chrom! Now you absolutely _have_ to let us go!”

“Lissa, not that you’re listening to me, but the march—”

“Robin has never been to a festival before! That she can recall! Because she has no memories!”

Chrom’s words trickled to a halt and he physically faltered, looking at her with beseeching eyes, but all he got in return was a look of surprise that slowly turned thoughtful.

“Now that you mention it…” Robin began, apparently more taken aback than she thought she would be, “You’re right… I can’t seem to remember anything like that.”

All eyes were on Chrom now, and it was plain to see how he seemed to physically grapple with the decision, alternating his pitiful gaze between Robin, Lissa and the others. When he finally settled on Robin, the defeat was plain to see, despite the words full of bravado.

“… We’re not going because of Lissa. O-or Robin. We’re not! It’s because _all_ of you are giving me a hard time. Got it? And I absolutely don’t want to hear the barbed comments or ‘accidental’ things that coincidentally happen to be strewn in my path if I said no. I swear, it’s like tending to children…”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the Harvest Scramble!('s aftermath tbh)

Gaius was absolutely going to ignore Libra’s comment about him looking ‘dazzling’ while kneeling.

Not that Gaius wasn’t always dazzling. Just. That led his mind in circles in a bit. And he suspected Libra realised exactly what he’d said after that entire… debacle, considering how red his face turned afterwards with the religious euphoria gone and reality sinking in. Wow. Wow, wow, wow. Gaius had needed all of five suckers to really process that exchange. 

All things considered, Gaius wasn’t completely averse to that sort of thing. And Libra wasn’t exactly the ugliest guy. And they were pretty close, weren’t they? Sure, the whole religion thing could be fairly off-putting, but Gaius was slowly warming up to it. And despite his shadowy work, Libra appreciated him. In opposite circumstances, would Gaius have leapt at Libra with an engagement ring at the first sign of interest?

It wasn’t _impossible_ …

And then any further ruminations were broken by him having to tail a cutpurse.

As it turned out, the festival was more of a scramble, with Risen up to his neck. On the one hand, the whole harvest festival idea had been to relax and the Risen were doing a piss poor job of it. On the other hand, he was sure Chrom felt grateful they made this detour or an entire village would have been decimated. And if Gaius had been grumbling at all throughout the clean up, at the very least the party the villagers threw them afterwards more than made up for it.

Also, Lissa smacking Risen in the face while wearing a party hat was priceless. Bless that Princess.

In a rare moment to himself, Gaius found himself thinking back to Libra, what he’d said, possibilities. 

Right. It wasn’t impossible. The possibility definitely existed. Gaius just never chose to entertain it before.

He was briefly interrupted by Chrom’s pained groan from where he was slumped over on the nasty tavern table, his drink sloshing in its tankard and spilling. And right on cue, Robin came into view, identifying the shock of blue hair and making her way over, shaking her head at the sight, sending the wreath on her head askew. 

“This was a terrible idea, and he knew it, and you _definitely_ knew it.”

Gaius knocked back the last bit of ale, reaching for another tankard from a passing waitress, “I can’t tell a prince what to do.”

“Frederick will have your head for this, y’know.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I got him drunk too,” Gaius jabbed a thumb in the direction of the table behind them. Frederick was slurring something or the other as he swayed in his seat, attempting to focus on Vaike’s animated drunken storytelling. Robin sat alongside Gaius, looking at him with wonder and admiration.

“Careful Gaius, I might have to give you my job. This is nothing short of genius.”

He shrugged through a new mouthful of mead, “I appreciate it, but I’ll have to decline.”

“What’s this swill you’ve been giving them then?”

“Not sure if it’s to your taste. Also, not to discredit your abilities, but this place is a bit… rough for ladies.”

“You’re playing chaperone for a bunch of oversized babies, what’s a fully sober grown up?” She asked him sweetly before she pried Chrom’s fingers off his unfinished tankard and sniffed at the contents, “And besides, I don’t have any memories of drink. So this should be interesting.”

“Trust me, you’re probably not going to have any memories of this drink either come morning.”

She giggled and damn if he didn’t find himself staring at her mouth, even as she took a cautious sip. She spent a moment deciding whether or not it was a flavour she could enjoy, making a slight face at the aftertaste, and somehow settled comfortably into her seat, nursing her drink as she cast her gaze about the tavern.

“So, this is what you get up to at night, huh? When you’re off the clock.”

“More or less, yeah. Usually only on someone else’s dime.”

She chuckled again, “I see why Chrom is here.”

“Why are _you_ here?”

“I had time to kill. And I was wondering where all the men had gone off to.”

“Well, now you know. No reason to stick around.”

“Why, Gaius, are you trying to get rid of me?”

“You’re just…” _Distracting_ , “Unaware of the nuances of these things. It’s male bonding stuff.”

“They’re all unconscious, Gaius.”

He chanced a glance at their tables. With the exception of Vaike, who was on the brink of blacking out, she was right. Damn.

“We’ll be bonding over our shared misery come morning,” he said finally, feeling unsettled and exposed for some reason, “And I’d hate for you to bear that burden. You’re far too beautiful to suffer the consequences of a hangover.”

“Why, I’m touched,” she replied without meaning it at all though she still smiled at being called 'beautiful', “But I _want_ to know what it’s like. If not now, then when? And since Frederick trusts Chrom with you, can’t I trust me with you?”

There was a lump in his throat. He swallowed it down.

She took this as acquiescence and smiled in satisfaction, taking another drink, “So with your entire company knocked out, what do you do with the rest of the night? Drink and, I don’t know, people watch?”

“Think.”

“Oh? What were you thinking about before I arrived?”

“You know,” he said, unable to tear his eyes away from her as she took another drink, “I just can’t seem to remember.”


	12. Chapter 12

There had to be something.

It hadn’t stopped at that run down pub. No, Robin was starting to turn up precisely where he wasn’t expecting her, more often than not places he didn’t want her to be. Ostensibly, it was because he didn’t want to jeopardise her safety, but it would be condescending to think, let alone say, that because she was easily one of the most skilful and conniving warriors they had on roster. But honestly, she was starting to shadow him when he was fencing some stolen goods, trading some secrets, discussing contracts, even during a robbery mission. It wasn’t like she didn’t know what he did. Still. It was something he didn’t necessarily want her to _see_.

But somehow, despite his pleas (perhaps too subtle for her rockheaded stubbornness), she insisted on being near him. Even when it wasn’t warranted. _Especially_ when it wasn’t warranted.

There was no way in hell that Robin would spend so much time being sweet on him after being accepted into the fold as a bona fide Shepherd. No way. Gaius was just a grunt who could fiddle with locks. He had literally nothing else to offer (he wasn’t about to begin with his stash). And, yeah, sure, they’d had that talk about friendship through the sacred bond of trust that was having dirt on each other, but carefully administered booze had Chrom revealing that that wasn’t something exclusive to Gaius and her. 

And, yeah, all right, it _rankled_. And he had absolutely no business being rankled.

He’d known beforehand, hadn’t he? That Robin and Chrom were sweet on each other. You had to be _blind_ not to see it. Even Sumia and Cordelia were wilting whenever they were in proximity. 

And besides, sharing dirt on each other, that wasn’t something _uncommon_. It wasn’t like Robin was the only one he had shared a secret with. He had plenty of secrets. Why was he annoyed about it? He had no business being annoyed.

But to think that Chrom had seen her, in the _flesh_ …

No. Nope. Gaius wasn’t treading down this path. Chrom and Robin were _something_ , weren’t they? How else would Robin have risen so far, so quickly? And they were nigh inseparable. Was it so strange to think that they shared something so… so… _intimate_? Gaius was _not_ miserable. He _wasn’t_. He had absolutely no business being miserable.

It must have been that, Gaius thought bitterly. She must have realised how close he and Chrom had gotten; one of the few non-nobles he’d had the opportunity to befriend. That, and his cock and bull story about ‘male bonding’. She wanted to extract some method of seducing Chrom.

Gaius and his big, fat mouth.

She was trying to get on his good side. Take him unawares. Pop in when he was busy whittling. Sit and ask him _things_. It usually started with his afternoons schooling Chrom.

It always started with his afternoons schooling Chrom.

He was elated to have her time.

He was miserable.

He wished they would kiss already and stop making him so hopeful when he had absolutely no business being hopeful.


	13. Chapter 13

“What is it?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Does it always have to be something?” Robin laughed as she joined him by the campfire, where he’d been cleaning his sword, “I’d have thought, by now, you’d have gotten used to the notion of us being friends.”

“Hmm,” he said distrustfully, “You’re spending an inordinate amount of time with me for it to just be ‘ _friendly_ ’,” he emphasised with air quotes.

It could have been the light of the fire, but that statement seemed to shoot the colour red straight through her, up to the roots of her hair from how she stiffened in place. A handful of people casually turned their head in curiosity. 

“Wh-what,” she spluttered, as though in disbelief, “What do _you_ think I’m here for, then?”

“Hmm,” he repeated, lazily refocusing his attention to his weapon as he returned to the task of treating the rust on his sword, “I’m guessing you’re buttering me up for some request or the other, something ostensibly related to Blue. Or, it could be you want me to do something you _especially_ don’t want Blue to know. Let me tell you that you could speed up this entire process by prefacing your request with a bag of sweets.”

No response from Robin. He must have hit the nail on the head. Gaius turned his blade over, squinting at what looked like a gash in the seam. Under the dying firelight, the shadows made it a little hard to tell.

“Why,” and here was something interesting, Robin sounded vaguely distraught. Gaius glanced at her, “Why would I ask you for something like that?”

“Well, aside from you, I’m the only other person here that doesn’t idolise him, and I sure don’t keep a respectful distance. Stands to reason that there are parts to him I know that other people don’t. And, of course, that means I’m valuable to him, one way or another. Friend, link to the underworld, what have you. I could either give you some dirt on him, or do something that he wouldn’t bat an eyelid at so long as _I_ was the one doing it.”

“And…” She continued slowly, “What makes you think that those are things that I want from you?”

“Bubbles, what you do with that kind of information is your business,” he exhaled sharply through his nose, “I don’t make it a habit of presuming. And I certainly won’t start with you.”

“Why not?”

Gaius shrugged, “Because you’re our tactician? Who knows what funny business goes on upstairs.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

He flashed her a grin, “I’m either right or I’m wrong. Which is it?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I just want to spend time with you?” She asked instead, voice soft.

“You’re too busy for something like that, or a guy like me,” he insisted, “Why waste your time? We’re friends, so you don’t have to play games. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do what I can. And anyway, you’re deflecting. If I’m wrong, you’d have told me so, smugly and in my face. Which means I’m right.”

Robin seemed at a loss for words, twisting the hem of her coat in her hands. Basking in the victory, Gaius made quick work of the rest of his task, hands positively gliding now across the length of his sword, stopping only to set his tools aside once he was satisfied. He stretched in his seat, pulling his arms behind his head and letting the tense knots in his back loosen a mite.

“All right,” he finally said with a relieved sigh, “You have a request, don’t you? You know me, I’d never turn you down.”

Robin looked at him, gaze searching, hesitant for some reason. Gaius put on the gentlest expression he could and patted her on the knee, hoping it would relax her, if not disarm her. 

It must have worked, because her posture suddenly slackened and she let out a breath she had been holding in.

“Gaius, you absolute prat,” and he blinked at her, unsure if her calm façade and upset voice were things he was imagining or really experiencing, “You keep saying things that put yourself down, calling yourself things like a craven or a dastard or someone who’s not worth anyone’s time on account of your work or your past. Frankly, I’m sick of it. You’re worth every second of my time. And as you’re completely aware, I spend plenty of my time with you, despite you being all those stupid things you say you are.” 

Gaius blinked again. “What?”

“You’re wrong, you idiot! I’m spending time with you because I-I enjoy your company! I like learning about the things you do because – and this may be news to you – _I have no memories_! And everything you do is interesting and useful and practical! Look at us, we’re surrounded by nobles who don’t know the arse end of a needle! You keep telling me that you’re not worth my time, and that I shouldn’t spend so much time with you, but let’s be honest,” and here, her voice stuttered and she looked – god almighty – _hurt_ , “It’s the other way round, isn’t it? You’re the one who doesn’t want my company. Maybe I’ve been a fool about all of this. I was under the impression that we were _friends_ , Gaius. I thought that, if Chrom was good enough to be your friend, then I would be. But I was clearly wrong. At the end of the day, it’s just you in my pocket and me in yours, isn’t it? I was being happy like an idiot for no good reason. I’m sorry for being a bother. And I’ll stop being a bother. Good night.”

He barely registered as she got to her feet, turned on her heel and marched into the darkness, uncertain if he saw her scrubbing her face with the back of her gloved hand.

What.

What the hell.

What had just happened?


	14. Chapter 14

“Was it a quarrel?”

“Hmm?” Gaius asked absentmindedly even as he glanced up, not really focusing on the other man, preoccupied with the flower whose petals he’d been plucking.

“Something’s obviously wrong,” Stahl pointed out sensibly, “Robin’s terribly upset for days now and it wasn’t something Chrom did. Just about everyone’s been hovering around her. Everyone, that is, except you. Doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“She seems like she needs space.”

“What you’re doing isn’t giving her space; it’s giving her a wide berth.”

“You sure cut to the quick, don’t you,” he muttered.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you did anything malicious. Did you have some sort of falling out?”

“Ugh,” Gaius flopped onto his back, feeling the grass tickling his face even as he closed his eyes, brows still furrowed, “Why are you talking to me?”

“I figure it’d best be me rather than someone like, say, Chrom.”

He winced, “Yeah.”

“Until he figures it out, though, maybe having at least one person understand your side of things could help. And seeing as I’m here, I suppose it may as well be me. Funny how coincidences work, don’t they?”

“As the gods willed, I presume.”

“Naturally,” Stahl conceded with good humour.

Gaius let out another incomprehensible noise before he rolled over, idly twirling the stem of the plucked flower between his fingers, squinting at nothing in particular. He remained silent, and maddeningly, Stahl sat patiently on the grass, closing his eyes and enjoying the breeze.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he finally managed to say, reluctant, “I… got a bit… uncomfortable, I guess.”

“Uncomfortable?”

“Yeah, that sounds weird,” he said with another wince, “I was trying to set… clearer boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Stahl repeated thoughtfully, “You believe some lines were being crossed.”

“Yeah,” he said, surprised at the relief from having someone else understand, “Yes. Exactly that.”

“What sort of lines, if I may be so bold?”

“Y’know,” Gaius replied unhelpfully, “The usual ones.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”

“You _know_. The ones about propriety.”

“Propriety is still casting the net a touch too wide.”

“The lines in the sand,” he said with a frustrated huff, “The ones that differentiate us. Socially.”

Stahl wore a look of comprehension and was about to let the usual spiel about how he was now equal as a Shepherd cascade out of him, but Gaius knew enough to put a stop to _that_.

“I’m no idiot. I know exactly what my place is in this army. And just because my new owner is kind enough to feed me scraps at the table, I won’t let them forget for an instant who I really am. No matter how hard anyone pretends otherwise, I’m a mongrel. Through and through. And one day, no amount of primping and scrubbing will hide the fact. Goodwill, like coffers, run dry. And a mongrel who thinks it’s a thoroughbred will be in for a very grim awakening indeed when it finds it has outlived its usefulness.”

Stahl fell silent, watching Gaius with those calm and pensive eyes, unperturbed and unmoved. It was unnerving. Gaius hated playing poker with the man.

“If you’re a mongrel, then what am I?” He finally asked, voice soft.

Gaius raised his head and met Stahl’s eyes.

“I’m the son of an apothecary with a talent for swordplay, not a highborn knight bred for the royal service. And it shows. I must have been good enough to be taken in despite my low birth, but I am clearly outclassed by my betters. And yet, since I have been pressed into the Shepherds, not once has my birth been a point of contention.”

“But you’re—decent. Clean. From god fearing, law abiding folk.”

“Gaius,” the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile, “As a Shepherd, you cast off your past. We all walk the same path, under the same sky. We all bleed the same red.”

“It’s a pretty thought, but it’s not the same,” Gaius sat upright, inching closer to Stahl, brow furrowed in worry, “What trust I have from any of you is trust in name alone. And that is because of who I am, by the very nature of my skills. Because, while you have the privilege of casting off your past, my very value in this army stems from my ties to mine. I’m still a _thief_. No one will ever trust me, and for me to believe they ever will… it’s nothing more than pure folly. I’d be wounded, again and again.”

“And so, you would rather wound others first…?” Stahl raised his eyebrows at Gaius.

Gaius snapped his mouth shut, expression shuttering into a chastised scowl as he sat back on his haunches and stared moodily at the grass.

“… that wasn’t my intention.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Gaius,” Stahl said gently, “I never knew you felt this way. I’d wager no one else does either. And even so, I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. Only, for better or for ill, Robin is our tactician, and the right hand woman of our general. And your sway over her is much more powerful than you think.”

“That,” his voice faltered, uncomfortable with such a thought being expressed aloud, and with such _conviction_ , “That wasn’t my intention. At all. I’m not… I’m not someone with that kind of power.”

“You joined us later, but Robin truly has no memories before the Shepherds. Her slate isn’t clean, Gaius; it’s _blank_.”

He didn’t respond.

“It may be wise, perhaps, not to approach her like you would an Ylissian noble,” Stahl finally said, “But as an equal. As baseborn as you or I am. That is where she had to begin. Perhaps that’s where you should, too.” 

At the lack of reply, Stahl decided he’d done all he could and stood, brushing away grass from the seat of his trousers. As he bent over to retrieve his sword in its sheath, he heard Gaius speak.

“When you say,” he inhaled slowly, as though bracing himself, “When you say she’s a blank slate… how blank are we talking here?”

Stahl smiled.


	15. Chapter 15

It had been a long, sodden march to Ylisstol, with the weather bearing down mercilessly on the Shepherds. All because of a summons Chrom was somehow unable to ignore. The dark weather only compounded the dark mood that had overtaken the militia since their last battle, won only by the skin of their teeth as fatigue from their travels wore them down. There had been too many close calls of late, with too much blame to go around, exhaustion stretching the tempers of the best of them. The chance to be scrubbed clean with a proper roof over their heads and a feathery bed to lay down their weary bodies for _rest_ was more than welcome.

Despite his own scepticism, Gaius was grateful for the respite of the well-furnished barracks located within the inner compound of the royal palace, not too far from the parapets and towers which offered a glorious view of the capital bathed in the light of the deep orange sunset when he stalked the length of the battlements as the daily drills winded down. 

The nobles returned to their estates to attend to their duties but the other unmarried and baseborn Shepherds billeted together, which was a relief. After months of travel, the personal space and luxurious amenities were desperately welcome, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t sorely miss the company of comrades – and in some, friends – that he trusted to have his back in the event of… well, in any event. You could never be sure what to expect when you were a Shepherd.

And _certainly_ the barracks were better than some ale-soaked tavern with too many holes in the roof. The food, for instance, was leagues better than what some homely barmaid could cook up in the scarcity that was the aftermath of war. 

But Gaius was still a thief. And lazy though he was, he found himself unable to sit still when there was an entire palace (and an entire palace’s larder) fit for plunder. 

At least, that had been his intention when he finally wandered into the more civilised and populated parts of the palace. But, alas, that was the very problem with the populated parts of the palace; there were _people_ there. 

And people had the unintended consequence of distracting him.

“… step, two, three! Step, two, three! Take-her-hand, turn-her-round– Once again, chest out, shoulders back, for _goodness_ sake! Your posture is atrocious!”

Gaius cautiously poked his head through a shaded corridor that led to the great hall, keeping hidden in the shadows of the servants’ entrance in the wings, peering through the gaps of the railings to watch the small crowd at the foot of the grand stairs. Maribelle snapped a switch between Chrom’s shoulder blades.

“Ow! Stop _doing_ that!”

“If you would _kindly consider_ following instructions, I may be inclined to entertain your request.”

“Lissa is a terrible partner!”

“Preposterous!” Maribelle gasped, “I won’t tolerate such slander, even from the newly ascended Exalt! Lest you forget, Your Grace, it is your _duty_ to lead. A poor lead makes for a poor follow! If you find Lissa difficult to dance with, you will find that her performance merely mirrors your own.”

“Yeah!” Lissa quipped, equal parts smug and irate, “And I’d appreciate it if you stopped stepping on my toes!”

“You mean like _this?_ ”

A slight howl followed by the sounds of a furious altercation caused the accompanying sextet to stop their playing with a dissonant chord. There was shouting and hair pulling. Gaius wished he had a chair and some popcorn.

“Enough!” Frederick’s shout cut through the noise as he finally succeeded in separating the two siblings bodily, “You are the Exalt and the Crown Princess! This petty squabbling is unbecoming of your stations!”

That seemed to do the trick. The tension in the air dissipated. Chrom heaved a heavy sigh, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair.

“By the Gods, Robin, will you _please_ be my partner?”

“Not on your life,” came a familiar, amused voice from just below where Gaius was standing.

“But _why_?”

“You’re not making a very compelling case for the waltz.”

“I cannot dance with Lissa. I can’t! You’ve seen what happens when I try! But if I don’t dance with her, then I’d have to dance with… with _someone else_! And anyone I dance with will be scrutinised as a potential candidate for marriage! If I have to deal with the gossip, it will at least be tolerable if you were the other party.”

“You’d throw me to the wolves of the Ylissian court? For the sake of pretense? No, thank you.”

“Then just _marry_ me!”

Despite the growl of frustration colouring Chrom’s words, Gaius found himself blanch, mouth suddenly dry, heart tightening painfully in his chest. He wanted to flee but he also wanted to listen, to hear it, to have it carved in stone for true. Hadn’t he been waiting for this, all this time?

The hall was absolutely silent, all attention on Robin.

“Chrom,” she finally said, once she had composed herself, “Go suck on an egg.”

He let out a cry of anguish, “I’m _begging_ you!” 

Robin scoffed, "Oh, _please_. You don't even consider me a lady, remember? What was it you said? That I wasn't prim, proper, pretty or perfumed?"

There was a gasp from their audience, "Chrom, you _didn't_."

He had the decency to look abashed, "W-Well, that was in the past and I've since seen the error of my ways?”

“Your Grace,” Frederick seemed to have found his voice, “Such a shoddy marriage proposal is an insult to the lady tactician.”

“Don’t _you_ start.”

“Dance with all the girls,” Robin interjected before Chrom could start another fight, “All of them. Let them lose themselves to speculation.”

“You jest,” and Gaius wanted to laugh at the abject horror in Chrom’s voice, “You clearly have no idea how the court works.”

“Yes, my dear,” Maribelle spoke as though she had never lost control of the entire session, “Unfortunately, with the upcoming coronation, anyone His Grace dances with will be considered a prospective bride, even if he favours no one. Why, their fathers and mothers will be crowing about their daughters in an effort to sway his opinion should Chrom so much as _smile_ at her.”

“Precisely!”

“More importantly, Chrom simply isn’t up to such a feat as to dance with each eligible noblewoman. His posture is terrible and he’ll dance himself off the balcony with such sloppy footwork.”

“… that was unnecessary.”

“I think I would know what is and isn’t necessary about etiquette and ballroom dancing,” she sniffed imperiously, “You are due for a break, Your Grace. Perhaps the heat of the day has made practice more tiring. Please do rest. As for the lot of you, on your feet! Find a partner and do make room for the other dancers.”

Maribelle began instructing the musicians and the Shepherds who had shuffled into position in the middle of the dance floor. Chrom had been ushered to a chair near the stairs, gulping down a chalice that Frederick offered to him on a tray. A handful of their Shepherd comrades stood around to observe the lesson, some offering encouragement, others advice.

He noted that Robin had not emerged from her position below the railing.

With no small amount of determination, Gaius slunk through the shadows and made his way to her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> although this is post-chapter 11, i really can't bear to marry Chrom off to someone else
> 
> also please do leave a comment if you are enjoying what you read


	16. Chapter 16

Robin was leaning back against a column with her arms crossed, her thick robes discarded in the oppressive mid-afternoon heat of the Ylissian summer with the balcony doors thrown wide open. Gaius himself was considering losing the shirt if it weren’t for the masses of sweets he’d hidden about its pockets. 

In the dim lower level of the dance hall, Robin’s backlit snowy hair shone like a halo in the shade of the grand stairs. She was watching the others dance, studious and maybe a touch wistful. He looked at her profile, bravado seeping away as he became less and less sure of what he was going to do or say to her. He turned a few possibilities over in his head, faltering each time he opened his mouth, but after several false starts, Gaius took in a slow breath of air and stepped forward, leaning in and placing his mouth by her shoulder.

“Sure you did the right thing?” He asked quietly. To her credit, she didn’t even startle, “There’re a lot of perks to being the queen, y’know. Big bed, fancy cheeses, glittering dresses.”

Robin huffed, “Is that what you think the right thing is?”

“I don’t know what the right thing is. I’m a thief, remember?”

“So you are. Not sure what I’m doing, talking to a thief.”

“Well,” he began, and then paused, for just a moment, before he decided to just be upfront, “I believe I owe you an apology.”

 _That_ made her turn her head towards him. She watched him with inscrutable eyes. Gaius licked his suddenly dry lips and pressed on.

“I’m… not really what you’d call a model soldier. Not a model citizen, neither. There are a lot of implications to being seen with me. Despite Blue being my buddy, I do what I can to maintain a low profile, for his sake as much as my own,” he glanced back to her, “Do you follow?”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but did not speak.

Gaius could only sigh, “I don’t dislike you, Bubbles. Nothing could be further from the truth. I was just… concerned about our proximity. May not seem like much to you, but you’re pretty much Blue’s right hand woman. That means something. I’m many things, but I’m not a fool about that.”

“What are you saying?” She uncrossed her arms and turned her entire body towards him, “You were pulling back because you didn’t want to… to tarnish my reputation?”

“Not sure if you realise it, but you have one hell of a reputation now.”

“I’m an adult, Gaius. I think I know how to handle myself.”

“I’m not saying you’re incapable of taking care of yourself. Naga knows you could run this ship singlehandedly. But, it doesn’t _help_ to have a shadow dragging you down. Shadows aren’t supposed to do that, anyway. It’s one thing for me to be seen with you, it’s another for you to be seen with _me_. And neither prospect is necessarily _good_.”

She fell silent.

Gaius inhaled slowly, “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t consider you a friend. I consider you a very important friend. That’s why I just… I don’t want to make things complicated for you. And me, I’m a pretty serious complication. And that’s not me putting myself down, that’s just a fact. Facts have real currency in that big ole’ brain of yours, don’t they?”

Robin narrowed her eyes at him, begrudgingly saying, “… they do.”

“So you get it, right?”

“… maybe. There’s just something.”

“Name it.”

Robin looked him dead in eye, “I’m in the worst mood because I have no partner for the ball.”

Gaius blinked.

When he realised he hadn’t misheard, he blinked again. And then he groaned.

“Seriously?”

“You’re begging for my forgiveness, right?”

“ _Begging_? There’s no need to exaggerate—”

“I want a dance at the ball,” she said to him firmly, “You owe me at least that.”

He shut his mouth and frowned at her, searching her face. 

She was _serious_.

This was honestly the worst damned thing. He’d rather have been on latrine duty.

But.

Gaius sighed. But.

He was trying to apologise. Against his better judgement, he decided to stick with honesty. 

“I don’t know how to dance.”

Her eyes flashed and she took him by the wrist, pulling him towards the centre of the room, “How fortunate for us to happen to be at a dance practice.”


	17. interlude iii

If she didn’t know better, she would have described the expression on Gaius’ face as somewhere between petulant and unwilling. But he brooked absolutely no resistance as she tugged him onto the dance floor and positioned them for the waltz. He shot a dirty look at an amused Shepherd, settling in like an inmate at death row, eyes glued to his feet, visibly uncomfortable. 

Robin felt a twinge of sympathy for him, but only a twinge. Gaius was a right dastard and he deserved to squirm. 

“Well, well, well! I’m glad to see you’ve finally decided to join us!” Maribelle’s eyes glittered with purpose. Gaius kept his head down, scowl still firmly in place.

“Now, for the leads, it’s a step forward, with your left leg, like so,” she demonstrated, arms spread out as though she had an imaginary partner, “Now step diagonally to the right, your feet should be a shoulder width apart. Now your left foot comes back in, so they’re together again. Pay attention here; step _back_ diagonally with your left foot. Finally, bring your right foot in, so you’re back at the starting position. Remember those steps, gentlemen. You were essentially drawing a box with your feet. Now we’ll put some music on and see how you fare.”

She signalled the musicians behind her and the sextet began playing a sweet and cheerful aria, emphasising every third beat for the wretchedly tone deaf. Around them, couples began to dance, some gracefully, some… less so.

“Step, two, three! Step, two, three! Nicely done, Stahl. Keep your hand higher, below the shoulder blades. We don’t want a _scandal_ now. Step, two, three! Good, good. Step diagonally and– Vaike! Don’t DRAG the poor woman across the floor; lead her! Gently! Use smaller steps, you oaf!”

Robin looked to Gaius, who had loosened his grip on her so they weren’t pressed close, and he was frowning at his feet.

“Shall we start?” She asked when it was evident that they weren’t going anywhere, “The steps are simple enough.” 

He grunted. 

But, haltingly, he tightened his grip on her hand and moved his feet. Left forward, and then right diagonally, but it was so hesitant and difficult to follow that Robin wasn’t able to match his movements. She stumbled back with a sharp inhale as Gaius accidentally stomped on her toes.

“Gaius! Honestly, lead with confidence!” Maribelle scolded, “Without confidence, your partner won’t be able to tell what you’re trying to do! Keep to the beat! And, for goodness sake, straighten your back!”

As they recovered, Robin considered calling off the whole thing. Forcing Gaius into something he so obviously didn’t enjoy was amusing enough, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to suffer a swollen foot come evening. Anyway, it wasn’t like there was a shortage of Shepherds to dance with at the ball.

And she was about to say as much but was stopped by Gaius taking a deep breath and righting his posture. He kept his eyes glued to the floor and bobbed his head according to the music, trying to find the beat. And when he finally was able to do so, he began to move in time. Left forward, right diagonally, feet together, left diagonally, feet together. It began jerkily, but she did her best to respond to his lead, and soon he was able to find the rhythm. They stumbled and shuffled a little, boots knocking when they moved out of sync, but they were definitely beginning to do something that resembled a waltz. 

At least, it had been until she gasped at the spike of pain when he got her toes again. He winced, looking absolutely mortified, like he wanted to crawl into a hole. 

“Is there a reason you’ve stopped, Gaius?” Maribelle’s tone was sweet enough to turn the blood in their veins to ice, “It’s not much of a practice if one isn’t practicing.”

“It’s not much of a dance if I keep stepping on her feet,” he muttered in response.

“Well, it’s not much of a dance if you spend it staring at the ground.”

“But that’s where my feet are.”

Maribelle looked like she’d swallowed a lemon and narrowed her eyes dangerously, “That’s why you learn the movement and memorise it, you uncultured swine. Once it’s been learnt, you don’t _need_ to look to see where your feet are, and can focus on being a good lead. You’re bound to make mistakes at the start, but you _must keep moving_!” She punctuated each word with a clap, “Now get back into it!”

There was something to be desired of what passed as motivational speech coming from Maribelle, but wonder of wonders, Gaius obediently followed her instruction and continued his fumbling attempts at the waltz.

And… he got better. 

She was starting to get used to his lead and they were moving… well, not smoothly, but without too many obvious mistakes. 

_He’s taking this seriously_ , she thought, a sense of awe and affection and gratitude swelling through her as he began to move more naturally. He was doing his best to make it up to her, going so far as to do something that he so obviously disliked, and that just made the little buzz of happiness grow bigger and bigger until she was sure her chest would burst with joy. 

“All right, pause a moment,” Maribelle called out, exasperated but also a little pleased, and the music also stopped, “I see you have the basics down. But doing the same thing over and over again is terribly dull. Let’s learn some spins and flourishes. Oh, stop groaning, Vaike; I’ll only teach you the two moves.”

She could feel Gaius tense under her hands as Maribelle began to demonstrate a simple turn and a flourish, with assistance from Frederick (who, as it so happened, was an excellent ballroom dancer). Soon the music resumed and couples began to struggle once more.

Robin let out a single huff of quiet laughter, squeezing Gaius’ shoulder to get his attention, “You should relax. You’re actually not bad at this.”

He grunted again, adjusting his grip with some determination, and stepping them back into the waltz. Step, two, three. Step, two, three. Maribelle cued them to spin. Gaius almost got it, except for the end when he caught her too quickly and made her stagger into him.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, before he could second guess himself, “We’re fine.”

And it must have been her choice of words, because something flashed through his eyes and he glanced up at her. She smiled back as reassuringly as she could. In the background, Maribelle was yelling at a ruckus on the other side of the hall as some poor fool tripped and sent him and his partner to the floor in a tangled heap, but she could barely pay attention to anyone else. It was so strange to be given the chance to be so close to Gaius, and to look at his face without the weight of his gaze on her. He was usually cool and collected, always looking her squarely in the eye. She barely recognised _this_ man. 

Gaius inhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a moment before he refocused on his feet, found the beat, and stepped back into the waltz. 

It was hardly perfect. He was a very quick learner, true, but he was still obviously uncomfortable and too focused on making sure his feet were where they were meant to be, which made it feel a little mechanical. Yet, after two more failed attempts, Gaius’ third try at a spin went perfectly. And so did the fourth, fifth and sixth ones.

By the seventh one, she couldn’t help the large grin as she returned so smoothly into Gaius’ handhold, it was almost like they did this every day. Now that they were honest-to-goodness actually dancing, she was beginning to enjoy the music and the movement. And it was wonderful to execute a spin or flourish without accident. It was _fun_.

“That was amazing,” she said far too enthusiastically.

“It was lucky.”

“It was perfect,” she insisted, “Let’s do it again.”

“Sorry, hang on,” he said, removing the hand from her back to wipe away the sweat that had begun to drip into his eyes. The heat had gotten positively sweltering and she herself was covered in a fine sheen, but had barely noticed.

“Gods, but it’s warm,” she began conversationally, a tad breathless, “I wish there was something else I could take off.”

“You could take your gloves off,” he said, following his own advice and tossing them to the floor. He rolled up his right sleeve and pushed his bandana higher up his forehead, where it had begun drooping over his brow.

That’s right. She’d left her gloves on.

“It’s my body that’s warm, not my hands,” she replied without missing a beat, casual as you like, “Now I do believe I asked for another spin.”

“You and your requests,” but his grumbling held no real weight behind it and he twined his arms around her once again. Without the leather of his gloves, she could feel the warm weight of his hand splayed out over the thin material of her camisole and that sent her heart to her throat.

They moved again, and this time, Robin was the one stumbling with every other step. She could feel a flush creeping up her neck, far too aware of how his fingers felt like on her back. She desperately wished she would stop thinking about it, but when he adjusted his handhold, it sent a shock through her nerves and she stiffened, back ramrod straight. 

Then he tried to spin her. He sent her the wrong way. That only made her laugh, most of it nerves.

“Told you it was luck,” he said, sounding less distressed and more frustrated. Not that she could blame him. The fact that he was actually talking to her was a good sign. There was so much energy and nervousness thrumming through her, she barely knew what to do with it.

“Maybe it’ll come back,” she said, suddenly hating how everything that came out of her mouth seemed to sound stupid to her ears.

The next two attempts resulted in more fumbling and finally—

“I think you should take your gloves off,” he said, exasperated, “It’s hard to know where you’re moving if I can’t have that connection.”

Her eyes widened, despite herself, “You were fine when _both_ of us were wearing gloves.”

“I told you, it was luck. Look, it just feels weird for only one of us to have gloves on. What’s the big deal?”

And he was right. 

But.

“I…” She’d glossed over it so smoothly before, why was she faltering now? It must have been the heat. It was making her tongue-tied and anxious.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, too quickly, “I… I’d rather not take my gloves off, if it’s all the same to you.”

He knew something was off because he raised his head and looked her in the eye, assessing her in that quiet way of his, “Why not?”

 _There’s something I don’t want anyone to see_ , and it should have been easy enough to say, given that Gaius had said the very same thing to her the first time they’d ever spoken, but somehow...

She bit her lower lip and shook her head, “Please don’t ask me to take them off.”

She hated the pleading note in her voice. Hated it so much. But it must have been the heat. She was feeling weak and raw, and the way he looked at her only made her feel that much more exposed. She was suddenly incredibly grateful that he’d spent the entirety of practice staring at his feet but any hopes she’d harboured of him continuing to do so were ultimately quashed as he wordlessly took up his position again and led her in the waltz.

This time, he looked her in the eye. 

And, somehow, without the need to see his feet, they were finally pressed flush against each other.

She could barely hear the music change. Despite the urge and the overwhelming sense of humiliation, she couldn’t look away if she tried. They didn’t say another word, and continued to dance, face only inches apart, through the next song, and the next.


	18. Chapter 18

Gaius was well and truly screwed.

Every single good intention he’d ever had was coming to bite him in the ass.

So many things had happened differently from what he’d planned, ever since the day he’d agreed on a heist on the royal treasury which went hilariously awry. Being herded onto the straight and narrow had never been on his list, but day after day, he was assaulted by people concerned about his physical and spiritual well-being and… it was changing him. Making him think about himself differently. Making him _want_ to be different. Being a Shepherd had originally just been about running from the Plegians that had hired him. If he knew anything, it was about survival. Now, though?

He wanted to kiss her.

 _Egads_ , but the thought was both thrilling and mortifying at the same time. In hindsight, everything was painfully obvious. He knew he’d always harboured a bit of a crush on Robin but he hadn’t realised to what extent it was serious. 

Well, now he knew.

And it was more than just wanting to kiss her.

He wanted to be _worthy_ of her.

There were a lot of things that had changed since he’d befriended the others. How to be clean and presentable. How to suffer physical torment to improve his self-discipline. How to give himself another _chance_. And though it may have started off begrudgingly, he was doing all of it every day now, and with enthusiasm, because… it was stupid of him to think it, but he wondered if it would make him good enough. If not respectable, then at least something like it. 

He was a _thief_ , for crying out loud. Who would give him the time of day?

But the problem was that… _Robin did_. Constantly. 

And how could any guy resist _that_?

It wasn’t just that Gaius thought that she was gorgeous and brilliant and funny and ridiculous and kind of wonderful. She just… smiled at him in a way that made him feel special, like he _was_ actually special. And although he had essentially been trying to keep a low profile, she insisted on spending time with him despite there being no real need to, and he meant that with as much good will as possible – even the best of friends didn’t need to spend their every waking moment together. Yet, when he turned a corner, there she was, lighting up like she’d been wanting to see him.

It was painful to hope, but all the same, Gaius wasn’t a complete idiot. He had _eyes_.

She must feel _something_ for him. He didn’t know exactly how much she reciprocated his feelings, but there just _had_ to be something. 

They were so close. Inches apart. Separated by only this _feeling_ and the company of the Shepherds. She was flushed red with heat and the weight of her secret, but not once did she look away from him, close as they were. With his gloves off, he could feel the warmth of her skin where they touched, unencumbered by cloth or leather, pressed almost body to body as they circled the dance floor with her in his arms. And part of him swore that if he kissed her, right there in the middle of the ballroom, she would kiss him back.

But he didn’t.

Because another part of him told him he was _insane_.

Nothing could be worse or more humilating than misinterpreting her behaviour.

Her interest in him could just be something platonic and benign. She had no memories, right? Sure, Gaius had been the one doing all the flirting, but that had been completely harmless. What _wasn’t_ so harmless was the fact that she kept approaching him, despite the flirting. 

Logically, it didn’t make sense. He was just some grunt in the army, whose only skills were of the shady and underhanded variety. Absolutely none of that honour stuff people like Sully liked to go on about. And didn’t she like him because she felt an affinity for them both being outsiders? She’d said so herself; he was _interesting_ because he was different. She was an academic sort of woman. He was just another puzzle to unpack.

And that wasn’t even the end of it. 

Because, casting an even greater shadow, was none other than Chrom. 

Sure, they were friends, and _sure_ , he was a dweeb, and _sure_ , he’d been half-joking when he’d asked Robin to marry him…

But he also was half-serious. He wouldn’t say no if Robin agreed to marriage. Gaius wasn't an idiot.

Chrom was his _friend_. More than that, he was the Exalt. From what Gaius had heard, despite all opposition, Chrom had offered her the world and given her a place in it, by his side. Who the hell could compete with _that?_

Gaius wanted desperately to believe that what he was feeling was just a crush.

But he knew exactly what falling felt like.

He was well and truly screwed.


	19. Chapter 19

He looked up when he noticed Robin gesturing at him to come, trotting obediently down the length of the passage towards her. She dismissed Lon’Qu as he came to a stop by her side.

“Something you need, Bubbles?”

“Of a sort. It’s something best discussed in my room, actually.”

If his heart had been beating a little faster before, it was positively thundering now. Gaius wet his suddenly dry lips, feeling his chest constrict at what she was implying, “You, uh, you sure about that?”

“Of course, I am.

Oh boy.

“Are you _really_ sure?”

“… Yes, I’m quite sure. What is it? Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing like that. Just, uh, wondering what you need to tell me. Specifically in your room. Just the two of us. It… _is_ just the two of us, right?”

She quirked a brow and smiled at him as though he was a very amusing child, “You’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” And then she winked.

Oh boy. Ohhh boy.

Gaius swallowed the lump in his throat as fell into step behind her, blindly following her to the royal wing. He kept his head down and shuffled the entire way in hopes that no one would spot him skulking behind her like a badly concealed shadow, willing the blush not to overtake him. She was talking about something or the other but he could barely pay attention, responding only in grunts until conversation dried up and silence followed them to the door of her chambers.

“After you,” she said, gesturing him in, and he took a slow breath before crossing the threshold. 

Desperate to focus on anything but Robin, he scanned the room. It had been luxuriously furnished – fitting for the royal wing – and she’d begun wrecking the décor by stacking books upon books in certain nooks and crannies where he imagined she would be comfortably curled up for hours of study. A few ink-stained maps were sprawled across her bureaus, chess pieces holding them down. It made him want to laugh. Trust her to turn a luxurious boudoir into a common rectory. He slowly felt his heart unsqueeze. 

Then he heard the door shut behind them.

“You’re certainly a difficult man to get ahold of,” her voice drifted from across his shoulder. He turned. Robin was leaning back against the bedroom door, arms crossed as she looked at him with inscrutable eyes, “Been keeping busy, have you?”

Not really trusting himself to speak, Gaius just shrugged, nonchalantly as he could.

She sighed, “Fine, keep your secrets. It’s probably for the better, considering…” Robin cleared he throat and briefly glanced away, “Well. Considering.”

Oh boy.

She pushed herself to stand and took Gaius by the wrist, tugging him deeper into the room. He dumbly obeyed, willing himself to look anywhere else but at her, but when she sat on the edge of her bed and made him follow suit, he could only stare down at her scuffed leather boots, tentatively dragging his eyes up to meet her face.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you here.”

He nodded warily. 

“It’s not, well… it’s not something that a person could easily say… What I mean is…”

She began in that vein, flustered and unable to approach the subject directly. All the while, Gaius stared at her in a daze, mesmerised by her lips as they continued to form words despite the fact that he could barely hear a thing she was saying because he definitely, truly, honestly just wanted to kiss her.


	20. Chapter 20

Gaius reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

In response, Robin snapped her mouth shut and stopped talking. Instead, she looked at him steadily, waiting.

Waiting.

With a ripple of courage, Gaius pushed her down onto the bed. 

She followed obediently, laying on her back as Gaius kneeled between her legs, pinning her onto the silken sheets by her wrists. There was no resistance, only that quiet look in her eyes as she looked at him patiently. He stared right back, watching her cheeks slowly redden under his unwavering gaze, and when his eyes darted down to her mouth, she licked her lips. 

She stayed still. Waiting for his move.

So he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

She sighed, as though finally relieved of a burden, and pulled her hands away from his grip – which he only too willingly released, ready to be shoved away or slapped – only to twist her arms around his neck as she surged up to deepen the kiss. 

Emboldened, Gaius changed the angle of the kiss, running his hand down her thigh and gripping her by the back of her knee, bracing it against his hip so he could grind down against her. She moaned, rolling her hips back earnestly, and that delicious friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him, making him tremble as he lost the last threads of whatever restraint he thought to exercise. He nipped her lip, taking advantage of her gasp to rub his tongue against her as he all began rutting against her like some kind of beast. He pulled back to rip his gloves off, peeling her heavy robes away to reveal her buxom figure, and, without an ounce of shame, he jammed a hand under her camisole to grab her naked breast. 

“Gaius,” she breathed, grabbing him by his hair and yanking him close to crush their mouths together, the pain in his scalp every bit as arousing as the delicious noises she was making as he began to pinch her nipple and–

“Gaius,” Robin said, ripping him away from his reverie. 

They were still sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at her in a daze, noting the concerned look on her face.

“Are you paying attention at all?” She asked with a frown, “You were a million miles away.”

Well, being back in reality did nothing to diminish his desire for them to mash faces. And his little daydream had made things a tad more difficult in the downstairs area. Their proximity wasn’t helping his problem either.

“I’m listening,” he murmured, desperately trying not to look at her mouth.

“All right. There’s no easy way to say this…”

He nodded, leaning in closer, fixated on the curve of her lips, almost certainly on the brink of making her mad again.

“… but I want you to reclass. As an assassin.”

Gaius jerked back, staring at her even as he felt his blood run cold.


	21. interlude iv

“Say that again.”

Robin took a deep breath, “I want you to reclass as an assassin.”

“ _Why._ ”

She couldn’t help but wince. The air seemed to freeze between them. Despite the nervous energy (he had probably been doing something he ought not to), he had been warm and affectionate as usual. Now though… he was positively icy. The lazy, drunk look in his eyes had been replaced by something dark and unkind, sharp as the cutting tone he had taken with her. Back ramrod straight, he looked at her like he was accusing her. It was disorienting. She knew he would protest, but she’d anticipated a token protest not… _this_.

“I… believe some people, within the Ylissian camp, are a threat to the peace.” _To Chrom_. “But their motivations are not so easily proved. And I fear mitigation would be… a difficult task, once they manage to place themselves at their desired station.”

“And so you prefer them dead.”

“I…” She was at a loss. How could she possibly respond to this? “Yes.”

“Who?”

“… Duke Rothesberg and the Lady Meridia.”

The names weren’t unfamiliar to him. His frown deepened.

“That’s a council member,” he said slowly, his expression changing into one of shock and displeasure as he glanced up to meet her eyes, “… and his daughter. Old Ylissian nobility with the strongest claim to the throne after the Exalt’s family. In fact, his is the most likely claim for marriage.” Here, his face took a hard and unrelenting edge, “Wiping out the competition then?”

Robin flinched, “My sources have informed me, reliably, he has designs on the Halidom, whether or not he marries his daughter off to Chrom. But as you say, his claim is the strongest. The council may exert pressure on Chrom to choose his daughter—”

“—who’s done nothing wrong,” he said furiously, “I wasn’t aware the Shepherds resorted to the murder of innocents.”

“Removing Rothesberg does not remove Meridia’s claim—”

“—but you admit she’s innocent?” 

Robin fell silent.

“So it’s true,” his body slackened as he rested on his haunches, bitterness tinging his voice, “You were buttering me up for something Chrom wouldn’t like.”

“It’s necessary,” she insisted, though she found that the conviction was gone from her voice, “They will proceed with the wedding and he will engineer Chrom’s death at Lissa’s hand. The accounts are reliable.”

“Then take it up with Chrom.”

She fell quiet momentarily, hesitating, “He will doubt me.”

Gaius scoffed, “He thinks the sun shines out your arse.”

“And he believes in the benefit of doubt. He will… he will not raise his hand against a councilman. And Rothesberg is an accomplished actor.”

“Planning for treason _is_ treason,” Gaius countered hotly, “Use that to arrest the ponce.”

“But that will not implicate Meridia!”

“Her dad will be imprisoned for plotting against the crown, for Naga’s sake! Who’d want to marry the daughter of a traitor?”

“Who’d want to marry an amnesiac wearing the colours of the enemy?!” She shouted back, briefly, but only briefly, gratified when Gaius snapped his mouth shut, her own words sinking in and making her chest hurt. She slowly sat down on the bed’s edge again from where she’d jumped to her feet. She couldn’t help the slight tremble in her voice, “ _He_ would. He’s a fool, Gaius. He’d do things that would harm himself and the Halidom just for the sake of proving how big his heart is.”

“No one marries for a reason as stupid as that.”

“But he _might_. You can’t deny that he _might_.”

“So? If her dad’s been decapitated then that means the treason plan is off.”

“I… have grounds to believe that Meridia has her own plans,” Robin said, rubbing the bridge of her nose wearily, “And she is her father’s supporter.”

Silence fell between them. His voice was equally quiet, “Why not tell Frederick?”

A bark of laughter, but it was wan, “Do you honestly believe Frederick would agree to an assassination? He’s a _knight_.”

She waited for him to ask _why me_ because that, _that_ had been a question she’d been more than prepared to answer. It was the question one asked in refuge from audacity. She had a list of talents he possessed on the tip of her tongue, more than ready to embellish a little for the purpose of flattery. She hadn’t expected Gaius to be this combative about the matter. It was a touch distasteful, yes, but conversations gleaned from their time together had intimate that he’d done similar things before. Reluctant but willing was what she’d been praying for. This, however…

“I don’t want to.”

It was like a slap in the face.

Gaius was already on his feet. Robin jumped up and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop, “ _Please_ , Gauis! I wouldn’t ask something like this of anyone if it wasn’t important.”

“Then ask someone like Lon’Qu.”

She’d considered it. His handiwork was too bloody. He was too honourable. “It has to be you!”

“Well, I don’t want to,” he said, shaking her off.

“But _why?_ ”

He looked her in the eye, “You’re smart. Figure it out yourself.”

And then he slammed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Harvest Scramble support convo between Libra and Gaius, he admits to doing an assassination or two for the Shepherds and him being willing to get his hands dirty so the others wouldn't. For the purpose of this story, this part of the conversation hasn't happened yet. It's what the story is about, actually.
> 
> (and yes romance of course)


	22. Chapter 22

She didn’t even understand what it was she was asking for. 

Become an assassin.

What crock. Him, an assassin.

Was she even at the siege on the royal treasury? She knew damn well how that had turned out. He hadn’t wanted to kill then, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. 

He’d thought…

… He’d thought maybe she knew. Maybe the reason for her sticking so close was because she knew, she knew he was trying to be someone better, and maybe it was something she liked – _he_ was someone she liked. 

He felt like an idiot.

Maybe… maybe talking to Libra would help.

Yeah. Libra usually had something useful to say.

Yeah.


	23. Chapter 23

Libra was, predictably, silent after Gaius burst into his small quarters in a squalid chapel to loose a barrage of complaints and cries for help. It was no small thing he was going through, after all. He’d calmed down after his words had dried up, sitting dejectedly on a nearby pew with his head in his hands while the priest brewed them some tea.

“Are you feeling better, Gaius?”

He grunted, but after a moment’s silence, he said, “… I guess.”

“It’s certainly a difficult position you’re in, but I must say I’m very proud of your moral stance,” Libra said gently, smiling when their eyes met as he passed Gaius his cup, “Taking the high road is seldom an easy choice.”

“… I don’t like killing,” his eyes lowered to the ground again, “Taking coin is easy, but a life is… it’s all a person has, in the end.”

“Indeed. This decision doesn’t seem to be the main reason you’re upset, however.”

Gaius kept his eyes downcast, “It’s stupid.”

“Oh, Gaius. After all the nonsense you’ve put me through, I can assure you that this is definitely not the stupidest thing you’ve made me endure. Even then, I’ve never turned you away. Please, tell me. We’re friends, after all.”

He hesitated. Libra sipped his tea patiently.

“… I was hoping that… maybe the reason why Bubbles had been so buddy-buddy with me was because she… y’know, liked me.”

Libra, to his credit, didn’t even blink, “She does like you.”

“As a friend, sure. But the way she’d been hovering recently, I don’t know it kind of made me…” He ran a hand through his hair, “It gave me ideas.”

Libra raised his eyebrows, “Chaste ones, I hope.”

“Not entirely,” Gaius’ admission was blunt, “But enough to… well, it made me hope. Maybe made me want to do something about it.”

“I see. And were you going to do something about it?”

Gaius frowned, “I… look, it doesn’t matter anymore anyway.”

Libra set his cup down, “Gaius, what’s really the matter here?”

“I just feel so,” he clenched and unclenched his fist, “I can’t help but feel like she was being nice to me just to get me to say yes to her. And, well, fair enough. But what she’s asking for… I mean, after all this time, it’s like she never saw me for who I am. That… stings a lot more than I thought it would. I mean, it’s not like people don’t accuse me of all sorts of awful stuff, but it just… from her, it…”

“I understand completely,” Libra stood up and walked to Gaius, resting a hand on his shoulder. Gaius stopped talking immediately and looked up at the man, “You think she doesn’t actually care about you.”

“You make me sound so lame when you put it that way,” he grumbled half-heartedly, but the dejection in his face was plain to see.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong.”

“Evidence points to the contrary.”

“Well, if you’re here for my advice, I’m not sure you’ll want to hear it.”

“Like anyone could stop you from giving it.”

Libra’s lips twitched into a smile, “You really should speak to Robin and be honest about how you feel.”

“I don’t think I could see her again and keep a cool head. Not… not now, at least.”

“So what are you going to do in the mean time? You can’t run away from her forever.”

Gaius scoffed though he didn't deny that he was running away, “I told her to figure out why I refused her. Until she does, I guess I’ll go waste my coin at some cheap tavern.”

“She’s smart, Gaius. I’m sure she’ll have an answer before you’re even halfway through your tankard.”

“I know,” he sighed, rising to his feet, “So I guess I’d better get started now.”


	24. Chapter 24

The tavern was full to bursting with all sorts of unsavoury types yelling at the top of their lungs as a fight broke out near the bar. The floor was sticky. The ale was sour. The patrons stank. The food was tasteless. And the music was loud.

Pretty much his usual haunt. It had been a good long while since he’d last stepped into such a dingy establishment after joining up with the Shepherds. In the past, visiting this sort of dive had been a mix of intelligence-gathering and as a means of spending his coin, given that it was all he could afford. On a Shepherd’s stipend though, he could get the good stuff pretty easily. And intelligence-gathering for him nowadays was more about sneaking behind enemy lines and ransacking a field hospital for useful information (and goods) off the dead and wounded. 

One could argue that it was probably a step down from his previous lifestyle. Then he was reminded of the food and accommodation. 

And the company. 

Gaius shook his head to dispel that train of thought. He wasn’t going to sit here and brood about Robin. He’d spent so much time thinking of her and nothing else for too long. No, his plan for the night was to get drunk and maybe lose some money at cards. If he was lucky, he could his hands on some intel as well.

The waitress noticed him and offered him a tankard of ale. He took a large swig, making a face as it burned down his throat. Vile. Even so, he continued to sip at his drink as he scanned the tavern, homing in on a handful of louts oblivious to the fistfight nearby as they drank and gambled. He ambled over, tankard in hand.

“A round for my friends here,” he called to the waitress, taking a seat. A few eyebrows were raised until he dropped a fistful of coins onto the table. The deck was reshuffled. Cards were dealt. Gaius eyed his hand, wondering how drunk his companions were and how much cheating he could get away with, idly eavesdropping on the conversation and taking mental notes on planned raids and burglary targets.

And so the night went. 

Three games in, Gaius had won more money than he’d lost and was partway through a fourth tankard when his ears perked up.

“… bit more pressure… access to the ball…”

He frowned, nearly missing his turn and drawing another card.

“… in the way, damned foreigners… with the war… consorting with Grimleal…”

“… not our business… more importantly… will you have it ready by…”

“… yes, yes… all according to plan… arranging a meeting…”

His new hand was awful. He discarded his three of hearts.

“… enough swords and arrows…”

“… for a sizeable militia… pleased to hear…”

“… with Leandros out of the way… will be assured…”

Leandros. Marquess of Tethys. Strong support from the lower nobles. Has been denied a seat on the council for the past five years. Has a male heir apparent working in the Treasury, a son in the clergy, and a daughter in the merchant’s guild. The daughter is of marriageable age. 

“… suppose that’s that…”

“… the matter of payment…”

“… get ours, once the… comes through…”

“… hnn, if it comes to that…”

“… wait for the ball, I suppose…”

The ball. There was only one ball possible, what with the scarcity after the war. It could only mean the Ylisstollian Banquet. It was hard to really capture all they were saying through the noise of the tavern, but he’d picked up enough words to hear that there was some nefarious plot in the works. It sounded political, which he had always avoided, but seeing as his _friend_ was the Exalt, it was probably something he should follow up on. 

Chairs scraped across the ground as the men rose to their feet and clasped their cloaks around their shoulders. Gaius kept them in the corner of his eye, folding the game and nonchalantly yawning. He pocketed his meagre winnings and strolled out, keeping to the shadows as much as possible as he tailed the men.

They weren’t being too cautious. Instead of a winding chase, as he had been anticipating, they led him right to the cellar of a large estate… belonging to the one and only Duke Rothesberg.


	25. Chapter 25

Someone was burning a hole through him.

Gaius snapped his head around, searching all about the shaded wood for the source, but there was none to be found. He could _feel_ someone’s eyes on him and it was driving him up the bend. It had been haunting him throughout his rounds after his little discovery (he needed to think), and given their proximity to the edge of a Risen-infested forest, well… he almost wished it were a Risen so he could end the creepiness there and then. A sword to the gut tended to do that.

There was a rustle in the bushes.

Gaius whipped around, sword drawn in a flash, but all that was left in the wake of… whatever it had been was the swaying of branches, indicating nothing of significance. And he could still feel eyes tracking his every move.

He let out a slightly shuddered breath, sheathing his blade and reaching into his pockets for a hard candy, popping it into his mouth and sucking on it to calm himself down. 

There was no reason for him to be this nervous. He did rounds by himself plenty of times. What difference did it make if they were near a forest or a fortress? Fine, fortresses tended not to stink of magically animated undead. Maybe it was time to return to the palace...

As he turned around to make his way back, he came face to face with a dark shadowed face.

And screamed.

Crows took to the skies in shock and fear, cawing in a cacophony of noise that disturbed the canopy of the forest with the beating of dark wings.

His heart thundered in his chest, beating a mile a minute, and he clutched it when he realised there was no imminent threat from—

“ _Tharja_! Were you trying to scare me to death? Crivens…”

“It would be a desirable alternative to the current situation.”

“Sheesh,” Gaius sighed in relief, the tension seeping out from his body and finally allowing him to relax, “Have you been following me all this time? You only need to ask, y’know. All this skulking around is creepy, even for you.”

“Cut the chatter,” she interjected sharply, “I’ve received a premonition, and you’re involved.”

“Well that makes me feel better. Listen, can this wait? I kind of have something to do.”

“Stop talking and _listen_. Robin’s life is in danger.”

For the life of him, he shut up and listened.

“Got your attention did it? Good. I know you’ve been having spat after spat with her but I frankly couldn’t be happier. More importantly, I’ve been scrying and had some… visions, so to speak. They weren’t all that clear but what I saw was not pretty. Some Ylissian dandy is involved. There was a wedding, a fire, and then… a decapitation.”

When Gaius said nothing, she looked him dead in the eye and said, “Robin’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually already written about 10k words, but most of it is about events after they get together. Bear with me people.
> 
> As ever, please comment if you're liking the story! I promise to keep the railroading plot to a minimum (for my own sanity).


	26. Chapter 26

_Why come to me about it_ , he’d wanted to ask, but he knew why. 

Damned it all, he knew exactly why.

It didn’t mean he was going to give in though. 

Under cover of night, it was all too easy to slip unnoticed into the grand estate of the Duke of Cannae, Filipe Rothesberg. The manse, however, was under heavy guard, much too heavy for someone without any nefarious designs. Despite how sour this entire situation was revealing itself to be, Gaius choked down the sentiment and continued his infiltration. The likelihood of being captured was extremely high, but he’d concocted a fairly decent cover. He was a thief, was he not? And what was the duke but a wealthy mark, dripping with coin? The amount of guards in his estate indicated he had something valuable to protect, and Gaius was nothing if not a greedy man.

The best lies, after all, are those that are cloaked in truth.

The hour was late, with much of the household retired for the night, but Gaius knew that ambitious old men usually locked themselves in their studies or enchanted basement and loudly plotted their misdeeds with their minions. A quick survey of the upper floors indicated that he was right on the money. 

Perhaps he was overly confident in the security of his abode, because despite his precautions, the door to Rothesberg’s private study was ajar. 

“… honestly, assassins are a dime a dozen. Arrange for an accident. It needn’t be so complicated; perhaps an ill-timed fall from the parapets, due to shock from a passing Pegasus knight.”

A scoff, “You forget that the eyes that watch the battlements belong to the royal guard.”

“Precisely.”

“I am not denouncing your scheme, but I fear your intelligence does you no credit if I cannot understand what it is you are asking of me.”

“It needn’t be engineered, you see. We could stage an actual accident. It is only a matter of ensuring that damned foreigner is where she needs to be for it to take place. An exact time matters not, wouldn’t you agree? As long as we have our man on the inside, should she happen to be there, the plot could unfold. None would be the wiser.”

“… yes,” the older man finally said, “Yes, I begin to understand your ploy.”

“And?”

“It gives me pride to know that my blood flows through your veins, my dear. You are a rose in a bed of thorns. For too long have we been at the mercy of these damned foreigners, our princes abed with Grimleal. No more, I say, child. No more. We will have our man within the guard, and that viper's death will come. My coin will ensure it.”

A figure leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the man. Tell-tale locks of curly blond hair obscured his view of her face, but Gaius knew beyond a shadow of doubt who was in the room.

Felipe Rothesberg… and his daughter, the Lady Meridia.

And that was when he felt a sharp blow to the head.


	27. Chapter 27

“You’re bold, for a gutter rat,” cold blue eyes pierced through the shadows that danced as the flames of the torchlit room flickered, “I’d explain myself quickly were I you.”

Gaius groaned, feeling a distinct throbbing close to his left ear. He could only lol his head to the other side, wishing desperately for his wrists to not be clasped in manacles. Eyes still closed, he wasn’t aware of the exchanging of glances between his captors. Someone punched him across his cheek with a mean left hook. He could taste iron, feel the blood dripping from his nose. Wearily, he opened his eyes and glared.

“I won’t ask again,” said Felipe Rothesberg, the man with the sharp blue eyes , “Why have you trespassed, sneak thief?”

“Big house, lots of guards,” he narrowed his eyes and raised his chin, spitting blood out the corner of his mouth, “A thief’s got to sneak.”

“Stupidity,” a woman scoffed off to the right. Meridia, “Utter hare-brained stupidity.”

“Indeed,” Rothesberg agreed, “Though there is a fine line between foolish and courageous.” 

“You give him too much credit.”

“That remains to be seen, child.”

“So, you have a garish study _and_ a creepy dungeon,” Gaius looked around the chamber nonchalantly, squinting at what looked like a cage suspended from the ceiling, “If there’s a vault overflowing with gems and gold coins somewhere, you'll be three for three.”

“He’s a fool, father,” Meridia sounded angry, “Let us be done with him.”

“Hey, I’m just here to rob you of your valuables, not your lives. Since you’ve caught me, why not just pay me back in kind?”

Meridia stared at him, turning red as she opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish, unable to even speak. Rothesberg, by comparison, gave him a cool-eyed stare.

“You are brave,” he finally said, crossing his arms, “Lacking in fear.”

“Trust me, I’m shaking in my boots,” Gaius replied without any inflection, “Will you please let me go if I give you a bonbon?” 

“That depends entirely on what you have heard, thief.”

Gaius paused.

There were a lot of different ways he could handle this. He could feign complete ignorance, which wasn’t impossible, but would take extra effort. He could admit he heard everything and insist he was anti-Plegian, but that had the potential to seem too fake. No, what he needed was a nice middle ground where he could reluctantly reveal his distaste for the Grimleal.

“Some stuff,” he finally said, “Not everything, but enough to know you’re up to something.”

“Oh? Pray, do enlighten us.”

“Do I have to?” He looked put out, “I’d rather take a nap.”

“That can easily be arranged,” Meridia snapped. Rotheseberg raised his hand to ask her to stay her mood.

“You can answer my questions, or you can be on the receiving end of Riordan’s fist.”

Gaius paused as he warily glanced at the stiff-backed guard in full plate armour, eyes lingering on his gauntlets, before he snapped his eyes back to his captor. 

“... fine. You’re interested in putting someone to bed. For good. Make it look like an accident.”

Rothesberg’s eyes sharpened, “Whose?”

He shrugged, “Darned if I know. Not my problem either.”

“Hmm. I don’t believe you.”

Despite how his heart shook, Gaius kept steady, “Does it matter? People die all the time. Look, I don’t care if you kill someone. As long as that someone’s not me.”

His eyes flashed, “What if I said I wanted to kill the prince?”

Meridia started, “Father—” but stopped when he raised a palm once again, to halt her.

Gaius, in turn, blinked at Rothesberg.

“Uh, like that’s hard?”

It changed the entire atmosphere of the room. Rothesberg’s eyes were bright as he focused on Gaius. Meridia had uncrossed her hands, taking several steps forward to be in front of him. Riordan, the guard, also approached. Rothesberg gestured for him to continue talking.

“… I mean, he’s a military man, isn’t he? He leads a small militia? He's famous for wandering around with barely any guards, And there are hardly any soldiers left in the capital since the war’s end. It’s not like it’s difficult for him to meet with an accident, engineered or otherwise.”

“He has a watchdog, Frederick the Wary.”

“I know him,” Gaius narrowed his eyes, “As pleasant as a stone in your shoe.”

“You’ve met him, I see.”

“I’ve run away from him before, yes,” Gaius replied, “You’d think the armour would slow a man down.”

“You escaped?”

“Noblemen. Noses always up in the air for the express purpose of looking down. Yeah, I escaped. Climbed up a roof and disappeared into a locked attic.”

“Hmm,” Rothesberg said, “So you know that he rarely leaves the prince’s side.”

“Who cares?” Gaius sank back into an irate persona, “He’s not important, right? If you throw the prince into a moat, drop the Stiff on top of him. With luck, the armour will weigh them both down and they’ll drown.”

“And the woman?” Meridia asked.

 _This was it_. Calmly, Gaius turned to look at her, remembering to furrow his brow, “What woman?”

“The foreigner that nips at his heels. She wears the colours of the Plegians. The eyes of the Felldragon are stitched on her robes.”

“She is wily,” Rothesberg interjected, a wild glint in his eyes as he visibly took pleasure in Gaius’ every reaction, “Cunning. Without honour, unlike Frederick the Wary. She is skilled in both magic and swordplay. She has wormed her way into the prince’s confidence and appears to be his keeper. To so quickly become intimate, she must be willing to use everything at her disposal to… persuade him to see her way,” he said without the slightest attempt at subtlety. 

Gaius scowled, eyes darkening at the thought, “You can’t cast a spell if your books are wet.”

“Oh? Would you drop her in a moat with the prince and his dog?”

“For Grimleal scum?” Gaius’ gaze hardened and he pretended not to notice the approval on Rothesberg’s face, “A drowning in the baths is enough of a disgrace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whatever, this is my least favourite part, i need this story to hurry up so they can KISS


	28. interlude v

“I do not trust him, father,” Meridia spoke in an undertone, “He is a thief.”

“And a thief is precisely the sort we need, child. Thieves understand gold. You’ve seen his behaviour, he shows little loyalty for the sovereign. And we are not asking him to kill the sovereign.”

“Yes, but…”

“You doubt his trustworthiness?”

“I doubt he will keep his mouth shut after he has collected his fee.”

“An astute observation,” Rothesberg conceded, “Which is why I have invested in my own insurance on the matter.”

“Father?”

He smiled at her, “Worry not, child. There are more important concerns at hand, are there not? I believe a new gown is in order. Perhaps sapphire, to match your eyes.”

“Dash the gown, father! What’s to stop the thief from marching straight to magistrate to report what he’s only just heard?”

A scoff, “Who would believe the word of a gutter rat against that of the Duke of Cannae’s?”

Meridia hesitated, “Still, it could raise some flags, father. Should we not be cautious in all things?”

“I suppose. Seizing the Ylissian throne is not for the foolhardy, after all.”

“Good,” she sounded relieved, “The thief, then?”

“We will kill him,” Rothesberg demurred, “Once you marry, let us defer to our original plot, and accuse the foreigner of treachery.”

“Thank you, father, though…”

“Yes?”

“… I find that an accident is not at all difficult to arrange.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” she said, “A fall from the parapets. We need not fear reprisal if I were to do the deed myself.”


	29. Chapter 29

It had taken all his concentration to feign nonchalance even as he successfully managed to pick the lock on his manacles free. The chain was a solid weight as they hung from his wrists. When the noble prigs had cleared the room, he inhaled slowly and yelled that he needed to take a leak. 

He waited, first, for Riordan to approach.


	30. Chapter 30

Nobles. Kept their nose in the air, but they never looked up.

Rothesberg dangled from the ceiling by the chain of Gaius' manacles until he stopped kicking. Gaius dragged his still-breathing body to the dungeon, and pierced him through the ribs with Riordan’s sword.


	31. Chapter 31

He threw Meridia down the stairs.

Poetic justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the option of putting in something more elaborate where Gaius pretends to be their assassin-for-hire but I... honestly don't want to write it. So if YOU want to do it, beeee myyyyy guest.


	32. interlude vi

Libra jogged lightly down the hall to the Shepherds’ barracks, smiling at the few familiar faces (and awestruck strangers) he happened to catch the eye of as he searched the compound. The few young guardsmen he’d stopped to ask directions from either had been rendered completely unable to speak, or didn’t know about whom he was referring, which was all too typical. So he tried the next best thing.

The war room in the main palace complex was an absolute disaster zone.

Scribes were running messages, papers strewn across the floor, with Frederick trying to persuade a haggard Robin to take some tea as she sat at the eye of the storm, the feather of her quill drooping in her grip as she tiredly scrawled her signature at the bottom of a long report.

“You’re going to work yourself to an early death at this rate, Robin.”

“Coming from Frederick, those are strong words indeed,” Libra interjected gracefully. Both of them looked up at him, Frederick shooting him a look equal parts grateful and exasperated.

“Father. Thank heavens you’re here. Perhaps you might succeed where I have failed, and talk some sense into her.”

“I will certainly endeavour to do so,” he inclined his head.

“Diligence is hardly a sin,” Robin groused.

“Hmm. Working yourself into such a state is dangerous to your own well-being, which in turn effects your ability to make sound decisions in the field. Naga preaches balance in all things, and you would do well to heed common sense as much as you would the doctrine.”

Unable to respond, Robin could do nothing as Frederick decisively wrenched away the sheaf of papers on her desk and shot Libra a significant look before retreating. Libra sat by Robin and began to pour two cups. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes.

“You don’t understand, there’s too much to do, and too little time.”

“Oh?” Libra stirred in a spoonful of honey into his tea, “It seems to me that you are the only one stretched thin.”

She stilled briefly before she drew back to look him in the eyes, “You believe that?”

“I can see it.”

She fell silent, as though she wanted to speak, but couldn’t.

“I don’t understand what exactly it is that you’re so preoccupied with,” he finally said after a long silence, casting his gaze across the mess of papers in the war room, “I understand that Captain of the Shepherds is not a task to be taken lightly, but this seems quite beyond what a commander is responsible for.”

Robin hesitated, thinking of what she wanted to say, and then held herself back.

In response, Libra furrowed his brows, “You are working beyond your duties, then?”

“This is not a question that can be so easily answered,” she said instead, finally accepting the tea as a means of distraction, though Libra was nothing if not single-minded.

“I am always willing to hear confessions, should you require it.”

Robin narrowed her eyes at him even as she took a prim sip, not bothering to dignify him with an answer, which he accepted gracefully.

“If not as a priest, then as a friend,” he said with a sigh, smiling at her, which he knew she seemed to be weak to, if her averted eyes were anything to go by, “You’re working yourself to the bone, without anyone really knowing why. Something must be amiss. Surely you could trust your friends with your troubles.”

She shook her head and smiled at him wryly, “You’re possibly the last person I could confide in about this.”

He didn’t miss a beat, “This is to do with Gaius reclassing as an assassin, then.”

Robin looked taken aback and set down her teacup, “You know about that?”

“Indeed.”

“How…?” Realisation dawned and she visibly wilted, “Gaius.”

“Yes.”

“You must be here to tell me what a monster I am then, too,” she said miserably.

Libra was surprised, “Is that what Gaius said?”

“…no. But I could see it in his eyes. He was absolutely hateful, Libra. I’ve never known anyone to ever make Gaius react that way before.”

Libra quietly mulled the information over in his head before he deigned to speak, “How do you feel about your request now?”

“I… I think it’s still necessary. _Important_. It’s what’s needed. That’s my view as the Captain of the Shepherds, but…” She bit her lip, gaze growing downcast, “What does it say about me as a captain that I wish to retract such a decision solely so that I could regain his friendship?” 

Libra’s expression softened at the sentiment, “It shows that you care about him and his values.”

Robin scoffed, “You make it sound altruistic when you and I both are completely aware that I’m being selfish.”

“All right. Let’s say that you talk to him and tell him you retract your request. What then?”

She hesitated, but this time she did not keep her thoughts to herself, “I would ask my second candidate. He is unlikely to turn down my request.”

“You have not done that already?”

“No.”

“Why ever not?”

She glared at him, “Unlike you, I don’t hold Gaius’ confidence. He’s been avoiding me since our last meeting and… I can’t say I blame him. I don’t know how he’d react if I asked Lon’Qu now. I’d rather clean up my current mess than make it bigger than it already is.”

Well, she wasn’t a tactician for nothing. “Why not ask Lon’Qu from the start?”

“I…” She let out a frustrated sigh, “I didn’t think Gaius would say no.”

“I see. And you are absolutely sure that Gaius is a sound first choice for your request?”

“I trust him,” she said simply. 

Libra sipped his tea, thinking, “So you are planning to retract your request then?”

“I… don’t know,” she sounded torn, “I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I thought I did. Then Gaius told me no. Gaius has always had something of a grey moral compass, which I’d relied on for so long when I needed to do things that Chrom and company may not approve. So when he said no, well, I… I just felt like my entire foundation was shaken. Am I asking of something that is even beyond the morale forgiveness of a sellsword? I was so sure in my convictions that I was doing the right things, for the right reasons, but now I…” 

She sounded so lost.

“Never mind,” she said, shaking her head and sighing before meeting his eyes wearily, “You came to see me for something?”

He accepted the topic change, having a few things to consider himself after speaking to her, “As luck would have it, I came to you about Gaius.”

Dread re-entered Robin’s eyes, “What is it?”

“You say he’s been avoiding you?”

“Yes. Just about…” She glanced at the roster on the table, “Just about a week now.”

Libra was taken aback, and she noticed.

“What’s the matter?”

“I… haven’t seen him, actually. I was wondering if you might have.”

“When did you last see him?”

“About a week ago, to the day. He came to see me after your altercation and said he would be at the tavern. Only, I’ve been to the tavern and the serving wench said that he’d left halfway through a game of cards and not returned. I’ve not seen him since.”

“He disappears for days at a time, though. He could be doing the same now.”

“I don’t think so,” Libra said, feeling an ominous rise of panic, like a slow tide coming in, “On account of your duties, you may see him infrequently, but he accompanies me every other day. And following your meeting, he said something about waiting for you to see him. I don’t think he would make himself difficult to find.”

“You’re saying he’s disappeared?”

“No one in the barracks has seen him, and he keeps to the shadows enough that the rank-and-file are unaware of who he is.”

“As if a coup wasn't enough," she said, clenching her fists, "Shit."


	33. Chapter 33

He’d been hiding in a room in one of the upper floors of the mansion which had been locked for years, if the dust coating the tarp-covered furniture was anything to go by. Picking the lock had been child’s play, and fortunately no one had bothered to approach this particular wing even as the guards combed every exposed inch of the Rothesberg Estate. He supposed he should be more careful about upsetting anything that would betray his presence, but he didn’t really have much choice. He couldn’t light any torches at night and was grateful that it was summer and he wouldn’t freeze to death. As it were, he was down to his last handful of candies, and to be honest, he’d give anything for a good pot roast at this point. Even a potato on a stick would have been good. 

His stomach growled. Gaius smacked it without any force, “Hush, you.”

There had been absolutely no chance of escape. What could he do? He was outfitted as a thief, not an assassin. His equipment was built for breaking and entering with the expectations that he might be caught, but permitted a quick getaway. Unless he nicked something truly priceless, a mere thief didn’t warrant much attention or chase. This, though… this was something else entirely. Part of him rued the fact that he hadn’t reclassed and equipped certain necessities, but what’s done was done. He’d done what he had to, and now he needed to get out. And he knew that if he moved too soon, too quickly, he would compromise the convenient fiction he’d staged in the lower chambers of the manse. 

Curse it all. This was why he hadn’t wanted to reclass as an assassin. He wasn’t made for this kind of subterfuge. If Robin needed an assassin so damned much, she could go and become one herself.

The moment he thought it, a weight as heavy as lead settled in his stomach. He didn’t mean that, not truly. Of course, Robin could stomach death. She planned and lead the charges against enemy soldiers and brigands after all. But she was often stuck too much in her own head. Stuck in a situation like this? She’d pull through, of course but… Being an assassin… it wasn’t something he wanted her to do. 

He sighed. It was pointless to think about, anyway. Even if she had the temperament and the talent for it, Robin was far too important to be a lowly assassin. Anyway, come to think of it, she probably would have had an exit strategy beforehand. If she were in this situation, she’d be sitting in a bath right now, eating bonbons out of a silver dish. Unlike Gaius, who was hungry, tired, cranky and trying not to sneeze.

“Ugh. How did this even happen to me.”

Because of love, obviously.

“Love can go hang,” he growled, knowing full well he didn’t mean it at all, “I never should have come to this stupid mansion in the first place. Not even a drop of class in the furnishings.”

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled voices, heavy footballs, clanking metal. There was something like the jiggling of keys. The doors to the outside opened.


	34. interlude vii

“I come bearing ill news, Your Grace,” a grim-faced Guard Captain kneeled at the foot of the throne. Chrom motioned for him to speak, “Duke Filipe Rothesberg du Cannae is dead.”

A gasp rippled through the audience hall, followed by the rushed murmur of gossip.

“How is he dead?”

“Killed, Your Grace, by his valet.”

“And his valet?”

“Also dead. There appears to have been a fight. The valet was strangled by the Duke, who later bled to death from his wounds.”

“I see,” Chrom steepled his fingers and knitted his brows, “When did this occur?”

“The physician says it has been several days, Your Grace.”

“And why was this not known sooner?”

He hesitated, “The men died in the dungeons of the Duke’s manse, Your Grace and… it is a restricted place.”

“Surely a member of his house would have noticed,” Chrom scoffed in disbelief.

“It is tragic, however, I must regretfully inform you that the Lady Meridia Rothesberg du Cannae is also dead.”

The murmurs grew stronger.

“Explain.”

“It seems as though she was rushing out to deliver news of what she had seen when she fell from the stairs. She broke her neck and died of her wounds.”

“When was this?”

“Several days as well, Your Grace. The maid found her body due to the smell.”

“This is quite unbelievable.”

“Indeed, Your Grace,” the Guard Captain bowed his head, “But a thorough inspection yielded no extraordinary circumstances. The Duke and the lady are known to move about independently, taking a private dinner in the study, usually fetched by the valet.”

Frederick interjected, “Are you confident in your report, Guard Captain?”

“Yes, Lord Captain,” he said, “The Rothesberg Estate is heavily guarded. No one has been spotted entering or leaving the premises for the past week. If there is to be any conspiracy, it must surely come from within the estate. However, little evidence supports conspiracy. Unbelievable though the circumstances are, I must rule that Duke Rothesberg came into an altercation with his valet, whereupon they inflicted fatal injuries upon one another and succumbed to their deaths. The Lady Meridia, happening upon the scene, either during or after the fight, slipped on her dress near the top of the stairs and fell, breaking her neck and causing her death. Thus concludes my report.”

“I see,” Chrom said, “If so, I thank you for your service. Have the other family members been notified?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Both sons of the late duke are currently attending to the bodies at the church.”

“Councilman, see to it that Rothesberg is interred with the honours of the state,” Chrom said to the hierarch, who demurred and quickly conferred with his own subordinates, “A father and child, dead. No words can express my profound sympathy for the Rothesbergs.”

As the Guard Captain bowed and left the hall, Robin breathlessly caught him outside, as he replaced the helmet on his head and made his way towards the main thoroughfare.

“Milady! What…?”

“No one entered or left? You are certain?”

“The manse? Yes, milady. The guards have ensured it. Do you have concerns?”

“No, not at all, Guard Captain,” she said, composing herself, “Just… disbelief.”

“Of course, milady. If it would please you, shall I furnish you with the report?”

“No, such a thing is unnecessary. Your own report was more than sufficient.”

“Thank you, milady. Will there be anything else?”

“No, Guard Captain,” Robin said, “Good day.”


	35. Chapter 35

The funeral was held with as much pomp and circumstance as the royals could muster during a period of economic recovery. Eulogies were delivered, wreathes were laid, rifles were fired. The Rothesberg son who was one of the undersecretaries in the treasury assumed his duties as duke, occupying his late father’s seat on the council. Young, idealistic and tired of being shuttered behind treasury doors, as well as being a childhood friend of the Exalt’s younger sister, he was proving himself to be an ardent supporter of the crown on the council, in contrast to his father’s cool conservatism. Despite the tragedy, things were turning out for the best. 

Things should have been settled. At least, that’s what Libra thought until a guardsman all but attempted to break his door down.

“Is something the matter, sir?” He asked through a small crack at the entrance. With a grunt, the guard wedged his gauntleted hand between the jamb and attempted to pry the door open – but Libra was nothing if not strong, as his prowess with an axe proved. 

“Let me in,” wheezed a familiar voice, “I haven’t eaten in two weeks.”

“Gaius,” Libra breathed, immediately stepping back and allowing the man in. He locked the chapel door behind him as Gaius began shedding the stolen armaments, revealing a slightly gaunt frame and a pale face. Libra ushered him into the makeshift rectory and offered him his barely touched lunch, which Gaius immediately tucked into. Libra put the kettle on. 

“Are you all right? What happened?” Libra eventually asked, once Gaius had cleaned his plate of its third helping and downed several goblets of water. The only response he received was a wary onceover, “Gaius, please. When have I ever betrayed your confidence? I was worried sick about you.”

“I was stuck,” he said, after much thought, “I was up to the usual business and couldn’t make a getaway. Had to hide myself in a locked room, with no food except whatever I had on me. Good thing it rained, or I’d have had no water either. Nearly got caught by the royal guard, too.”

Libra eyed the discarded armour on the floor outside the room, “I suppose that explains the uniform.”

Gaius shrugged, “I did the best I could.”

“I’ve never known you to have been at odds with the royal guard before. The city guard, of course, but…”

“My target was a fairly big fish,” he said, “Should have seen his treasure vault. It was cartoonishly grotesque.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the dead duke now, would it?”

Gaius turned his head and looked Libra in the eyes, “What news?”

“A tragedy. He and his valet fought to their deaths. His daughter had the misfortune of being present and broke her neck in the process. He was interred with honours for his service to Ylisse and his son has succeeded him.”

Gaius let out a low whistle, “Sounds like an absolute massacre.”

“Indeed,” Libra eyed him, “Once again, did you have anything to do with it?”

“Is that what you believe?”

“You disappear, the duke dies, and you reappear after he is buried and the entire affair dies down. You tell me.”

“Fair point, Padre,” Gaius exhaled slowly, “Does anyone else share your suspicions?”

Libra shook his head.

“Good,” he said, sagging in his seat, “Good.”


	36. Chapter 36

Gaius recuperated for about two more days under Libra’s care before he finally decided that it would be best to report his activities to his boss. He could have sent a message ahead but decided that prudence was best, especially for something that reeked of conspiracy. He’d heard about Robin’s minor freak out once confronted with his disappearance and eavesdropped on some gossip about her overworking herself and realised that unless he revealed himself to her, she’d have no time to think about their little spat, let alone send a rescue party after him. 

He knew she worked hard, but didn’t realise just how hard until she just about jumped five feet into the air when he knocked on the wall beside him after she failed to recognise his presence in her study for the past two minutes. 

“Gaius!” She gasped, standing and sending books and papers crashing to the ground as she rounded her desk and went straight for him, which made him feel a bit better. Obligingly, Gaius locked the door he had been leaning against, “You’re all right! Are you all right? Libra said you’d gone missing and I was terrified something had happened to you.”

He cleared his throat, watching her for a moment longer before he finally spoke, “Rothesberg and Meridia are dead.”

She fell silent briefly, expression growing neutral, “So it was you.”

“You weren’t sure? I suppose I should be flattered.”

“Rothesberg’s valet died as well.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I needed to get him to get to the others. If it makes you sleep any better, he was complicit.”

“Dash how I sleep, Gaius!” Robin was shaking, though from exhaustion or anger, he wasn’t sure, “What happened to _you_? I need to know everything!”

“All right, calm down and take a seat,” Gaius pushed himself off the door and sank into a plump and oversized chaise not too far from the fireplace. Antsy, Robin did nothing but stare at him at first. Only once it was apparent he wasn’t going to speak until she was also sitting down, she took the seat opposite him, back ramrod straight, clearly anxious.

And he gave her his report.

Robin rubbed her face with a hand, finally allowing the fatigue to show, “You should have come straight to me once you’d escaped.”

“Pardon me if I was trying to protect your reputation,” Gaius’ response was chilly, but Robin was too tired to react to it, “A thief skulking around the foreign councillor after an important man dies in mysterious circumstances would ring bells where none had been rung before.”

“Libra could have said something to me.”

“I told him not to. You’d have marched to the chapel, and there are eyes on you.”

Robin sighed, unable to argue the point, “All right,” she finally managed, “But why did you do it? You were so dead set against it when we last spoke.”

Gaius’ mouth tightened into a straight line, eyes briefly darting away before he told he squarely, “Circumstances compelled me to act.”

“Was that all?”

“Yes.”

She sighed again, “I see. Thank you for your service, no matter how unwilling you may have been in completing it. You needn’t worry about future orders on matters such as these.”

His gaze sharpened, “Why is that?”

“Despite your competence, you weren’t a willing body. I don’t like forcing anyone to do something they are averse to. I’ll just… I’ll ask someone else, who has no qualms about such tasks.”

Gaius studied her. She was a crumpled heap in her chair, haggard with dark circles around her eyes and limp hair. She must have been trying to orchestrate some other subterfuge during his disappearance, in addition to her already gargantuan list of tasks. 

“Give me the Master Seal.”

Robin raised her head and looked at him.

“I’ll reclass,” he said with a deep breath, “So give the Master Seal to me.”

“Why?” She croaked.

“Because it’s necessary.”

“Of course it’s necessary, but not at the cost of your principles.”

“Who’re you going to ask, Lon’Qu? Let me rephrase: Because it’s necessary, and I’m competent.”

Robin looked distinctly unimpressed, “Are you saying that Lon’Qu is not?”

“He’s a wild boar,” Gaius shot back, “He doesn’t have any skill for subtle work, like lock-picking or sneaking or spying in general.”

“He can learn.”

“Sure, but not immediately.”

“I don’t understand,” the frustration began to show on her face, “Why now? What’s changed? You were so angry when I last asked you about this.”

Gaius inhaled slowly, “I changed my mind because I realised that someone has to do this blasted job, and seeing as I’ve already gotten myself involved with this kind of work, I may as well continue.”

“That is a poor reason to reclass as an assassin.”

“It’s still a reason. Just give me the Master Seal,” he was already on his feet, crossing the room to the chest where he knew she kept all her seals. Of course he’d know; he’d deposited some of them himself after fruitful raids in the countryside. 

“Gaius, please—”

“I’ll continue to dress as a thief,” he interrupted, pulling out what he had been looking for, “But you can give me orders in the usual way. And you shouldn’t go out of your way to look for me if I stay quiet after these… contracts.”

“Gaius, are you listening to yourself—”

“I’ll get a crow from Henry,” he said begrudgingly, “As a messenger. But only to tell you if I’m done, or in trouble. Nothing more or less.”

“Wait—”

“Get some rest,” he said, unlatching the lock on the door, glancing back at Robin, “You know where to find me if you have another job.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buh. writing while tired. sorry if rushed. pls review.


	37. Chapter 37

Maybe he was being a little cruel. But he needed to be able to think.

Was this right? Was this wrong? Did he make a mistake?

But if he hadn't, she could have been killed.

Letting even one person survive wouldn't spell an end to any attempts on Robin's life.

Was he being blinded by his feelings for her? People did stupid things when they were in love.

Did her life outweigh theirs?

Didn't it?

Was it worth their deaths?

Wasn't it?


	38. Chapter 38

Gaius may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t a _complete_ idiot.

He knew what his limitations were, especially his physical limitations. Despite what he’d said to Robin, he knew that there was only so much he could accomplish alone.

Up to this point, he’d never really had a reason speak to Lon’Qu. 

“Yo, Potatoes.”

Lon’Qu raised his head from where he’d been peeling a pile of his namesake, his cool façade never wavering.

“I need a word with you.”

“Need is the operative word,” he said dismissively, but did not object to Gaius taking a seat on the opposite stool, “Don’t waste my time.”

“Could you set a guy anymore at ease, Mister Master Conversationalist?” 

“What do you want?”

What was the point in beating about the bush? “This is a confidential matter.”

Lon’Qu’s eyes darted up, homing in on Gaius, hands slowing but not stopping. He was listening.

“This conversation does not leave the room,” he said seriously, “This is between you, me and Robin.”

“Robin?” Lon’Qu sat upright, much keener now, “What is it?”

“You’re a sellsword, same as me,” Gaius took a breath, “You know about the nature of the more… unsavoury jobs.”

Lon’Qu narrowed his eyes, but nodded.

“Robin has need of people with those skills. They need to be competent killers with a talent for silence. No trail can be left behind, and no one should be able to point any fingers.”

Lon’Qu inclined his head in thought. No doubt he was weighing his options and his own set of principles. Eventually, he nodded and lowered his eyes again, resuming his potato-peeling, “Tell me what to do.”

“This isn’t an order, Potatoes. It’s an offer.”

“To set Robin at ease. I accept.”

Gaius blinked. He felt mildly discombobulated, but also an immense sense of relief.

“Well… all right. I guess that makes us partners now, Potatoes.”

“Hnn,” Lon’Qu glanced at him again, only slightly annoyed.

“So, uh…” Gaius scratched the back of his neck, “I guess you should talk to Robin about a Master Seal. If you need any pickpocketing or lockpicking training, just let me know.”

The glance this time was distasteful but not disapproving. Assassins couldn’t be choosy.

Clearly having no further questions, Lon’Qu resumed his task. Gaius stood up and made for the door. Before he exited, he turned back.

“Hey,” he said, and Lon’Qu paused again, “Only the three of us can know about this. I can’t stress this enough. Got it?”

“Yes.”

Lon’Qu, always saying only what mattered. Gaius could live with that.


	39. interlude viii

After fighting with Gaius, orchestrating an assassination, worrying about Gaius’ disappearance, quietly investigating the Rothesberg deaths, ensuring that any evidence pointing to Gaius’ presence at the Rothesberg Estate had been destroyed, getting the cold shoulder from Gaius and then having Lon’Qu appear with a request for a Master Seal and a brusque “Tell me who you want silenced” on top of all the work she had to do above board, Robin had nearly completely forgotten about the godforsaken ball she had to attend. It had been an entirely too eventful month and she was just sick of everything.

In fact, she was just about ready to retire to her chambers and sleep for the next ten years, and she’d said as much. However, one look at the dress Lissa had sent to her had completely overturned any such thoughts and she realised she really did want nothing more than to look pretty and forget about the messes in her life at a fancy dance. 

Perhaps as an echo of her usual garb, Lissa had asked the royal seamstress to stitch together a gown of buttery soft velvet in rich mulberry tones. A collar of diamonds and gemstones had been sewn along the generous neckline, which emphasised her already substantial bust (the seamstress insisted it was the current fashion and Robin was too exhausted to argue the point), the bodice completely embroidered with gold thread in a traditional Ylissian floral motif which was tastefully repeated at the hem of her skirts and sleeves, where almost translucent light-as-air spidersilk in gold and lilac cascaded down from her shoulders and over her arms. The seamstress had brought along an ornate golden circlet for her short-cropped hair and matching shoes.

It was ridiculously extravagant and delicate and beautiful, worth probably years of her annual stipend. She doubted she would ever lay her hands on anything so fine again in her life. 

And she was going to wear the _hell_ out of that dress.

Propriety be damned. She may not be a lady for true, but if anyone should look and feel like one, she had earned the right a thousand times over. She wasn’t going to dither about something she was being freely given. She hadn’t when they’d offered her a suite in the palace, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. 

For once, the willingly gave in to the ministrations of the maids and followed their directions to soak in a hot perfumed flower bath, submitting to a soothing balm being rubbed into her skin immediately after to keep it tender and soft. She obediently allowed them to style her hair and apply make up to her face as the seamstress made adjustments to the gown she was made to put on, tightening and loosening it in all the right places. By the time they were done, she’d felt well and truly tenderised, but given her complete lack of resistance, she also felt somehow _refreshed_ by the end of it all. And when she turned to look upon her reflection in the mirror, she could scarcely believe what she saw.

It was like looking at a brand new woman. And despite the fact that Robin wasn’t prone to vanity, she had to admit that she’d never before seen herself looking so _gorgeous_. It was exciting. She felt _pretty_ , and she hadn’t really had any cause to feel pretty since her recruitment into the Shepherds. 

_Yes_ , she thought to herself, already feeling better, _this was definitely a good idea._

“We only now need an ornament for your neck, my lady,” said one of the maids as she began to clean up, “I can fetch you a selection of gem-studded collars from the royal jeweller, should you require.”

“No, thank you,” she said absently, glancing to her own artefacts scattered across her vanity, “I have something already.”

The seamstress lifted the pendant at the centre of the mess and scrutinised it with a frown, “Do you mean this, my lady?”

“It’s... not too… common, is it?”

“Well! It’s not gemstones, but the craftsmanship’s almost as fine as the jeweller’s himself! It matches the bodice of the gown very nicely indeed. A tad long for the neckline, but it will be no matter to shorten the chain for the pendant to rest above the breast. Would that please you, my lady?”

“Oh, uh,” Robin alternated her gaze between the pendant and her own reflection, “Will I be able to return the pendant to its original length after?”

“Of course, my lady, it is an easy enough thing. Now come, let us put this on.”

And then, everything was a flurry of movement. 

Robin barely registered being herded through the twisting corridors of the palace and pushed through the towering doors of the great hall for a formal introduction, curtseying in a daze as her name and title was announced. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. The eyes of the Ylissian court were upon her, and she realised that this was no place to make even the slightest blunder. She’d been protected from the politics until now, but no one knew what the future held. It wouldn’t hurt to err on the side of caution. She smiled pleasantly at anyone whose gaze she so happened to catch before grabbing a flute of champagne and quickly placing herself beside the first Shepherd she could spot.

“How are you then, Donny?” 

“Well! I just about feel like a trussed up hog, ready for the roast!” He squeaked, fidgeting visibly in his borrowed finery. She smiled at him, feeling more relaxed now that she had company, especially given how much more nervous he was than her, “On the other hand, yer lookin’ like a princess from a foreign country, Robin!”

She chuckled softly, “You sweetheart.” Someone (likely Maribelle) had cleaned him up well and proper. His curls had been combed back with a pomade, and he looked rather handsome in his emerald doublet and ink-black boots. The only thing he lacked was confidence. She was sure he’d be surrounded by a throng of women otherwise. 

“On my honour, it’s true!” He insisted, “I’d ask you to dance but I’m so darn nervous, I’m sure I’d trip all over my feet and embarrass you.”

“Nonsense,” she said, patting his arm soothingly, “You’re a fine man, Donny, and I know you’ve been practicing diligently for tonight. I understand why you’d be nervous but you shouldn’t be concerned about that. We’re here for a good time, right? Do you enjoy dancing?”

“It’s all right, I guess,” he said hesitantly, “Ain’t exactly what I’d consider easy.”

“But do you find it _fun_?”

“Well… when it was just us Shepherds? Sure, it was! I had a great time dancin’ with everyone. Er, once I’d gotten the darn steps down.”

“Maybe it’s worth dancing with a Shepherd, then. Besides, you’re not the only with a monopoly on tripping.”

He giggled, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth, “Robin! That’s not a very nice thing to be sayin’ ‘bout Sumia!”

“I was referring to myself, you silly,” she chuckled, “So that’s what _you_ think about her dancing, is it?”

The blush shot through Donnel like a bullet, “Pig slop! I-It just came out! I swear! I don’t really mean anythin’ by it, honest!”

“Calm down, Donny. I was just pulling your leg. Anyway, it’s not like you’re wrong,” she glanced across the room to Sumia, who was surrounded by a flock of admirers, and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “I noticed a few of her suitors wearing hard toe boots.”

He let out a snort and clamped his mouth again, shaking his head rapidly as he tried not to laugh aloud. Robin straightened her back and sipped her champagne with a smile.

It was good that she had come. Despite everything.

The song changed. It was a familiar tune, the same waltz that Maribelle had been drilling them with. She quickly set her flute down on a passing tray and took Donnel by the hand, “Donny, let’s dance.”

“W-what—”

Before he could truly turn her down, she all but dragged him onto the dance floor and rearranged them into the proper stance. His face was red and he looked uncomfortable, but Robin was all smiles. Somehow, it must have calmed him down, because he took a deep breath and began to lead.

He wasn’t a champion ballroom dancer by far, but neither was she. The most important thing was that they were dancing. And it was _fun_. And before long, Donnel was smiling up at her too.

Nearly towards the end of the song, Chrom caught her eye for just a second. But he’d occupied too much of her thoughts of late, so she quickly switched her gaze to his companion. She smiled at Frederick, managing to gesture with only her eyes her hand that was clasped with Donnel’s. He took only a moment to comprehend before he nodded, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Donnel chose that moment to send her into a well-executed twirl. As he spun her back into his arms, she was breathless with laughter and positively glided across the dancefloor, the music growing louder and more vibrant, working towards a heady climax. She could tell, peripherally, that Frederick was excusing himself and making his way through the crowd to partner her for the next dance. He would reach her just after the song ended.

With a final flourish, Donnel boldly dipped Robin. The music finished and there was polite applause.

“Goodness, Donny!” She could barely keep the grin off her face as he escorted her back to the edge of the room, “Any more of that and you’ll be beating down noblewomen like they were a pack of hungry dogs!”

He blushed red, looking pleased despite his shyness, “Criminy, Robin! D’you really think so?”

“I know it,” she laughed. A hand took hers, “I’ll talk to you later, Donny.”

Before she could say another work, a sharp pull caused Robin to lose her balance, and she all but tumbled into the firm and well-built chest of her next dance partner—

Gaius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW, I KNOW, THERE SHOULD BE A FEW MORE BUFFER CHAPTERS IN BETWEEN BUT I AM SICK OF POSTPONING THE ROMANCE


	40. Chapter 40

A softer waltz began to play. The beat was fairly simple to catch. Gaius quickly pulled Robin into his arms and rearranged them into the proper stance, leading her into a dance with a straight back and sweeping movements. From the corner of his eye, he saw Frederick gaping at him, hand outstretched towards them in an aborted gesture as he swept Robin further into the hall. He kept his eyes on her face as they danced.

Robin looked like she could hardly believe her eyes. 

On his part, Gaius kept as cool as he could. He was practiced at a poker face, if anything else. And while there were a lot of things hanging in the air between them, he was man enough to admit that every inch of her was gorgeous and he was more than happy just to look. 

Well. Not _just_ to look.

“What is it?”

“I was under the impression that you hated me,” Robin’s voice was small, “I thought you’d never want to speak to me again. You have every right not to. And I… I wasn’t sure how to make it right. I thought you’d want to get back at me. This is just…”

Gaius stepped wide for a turn, delaying his response in order to spin her away and recapture her in his arms.

“I promised you a dance,” he finally said once they were together again. 

“A dance…” She echoed in disbelief, “After all that’s happened, you’re willing to dance with me?”

“A promise is a promise,” he said, “No man worth his salt would break his word, regardless of how he was feeling.”

She fell silent, “… so you’re still angry.”

“I… I _am_ mad at you,” he finally admitted, frown deepening when he saw her wince in response, but he didn’t look away and neither did she, “I’m furious that you asked me to do something so… cold and calculated. You know full well that I joined the Shepherds because I didn’t want to kill the Exalt. I don’t want to kill anyone. I’m a thief, not a murderer. And everyone here is so gung-ho about me keeping to the straight and narrow. So the fact that you ask me to kill for you, it was…”

“Gaius…”

“No lie, it hurt. I just… couldn’t stand the thought that you saw me that way, as someone who could kill someone in cold blood. On orders. I honestly thought,” he let out a self-depreciating chuckle here, “I thought you were trying to get closer to me. Maybe you were actually just interested in me. When you dropped that bombshell, it felt like my feelings were being betrayed. Like you were just trying to butter me up into saying yes. No more and no less.”

Robin dropped her gaze, “I’d be a liar if I refuted that.”

“But I’m also angry with myself,” he said calmly, and that made her raise her head, “It’s always a pain to admit it, but you were right. If I didn’t do it, Rothesberg would have survived. Blue would be dead. The Princess would have suffered. You’d have been caught up in it… It was necessary. Despite everything Maribelle says about taking the right path to justice, I couldn’t have lived with myself if I hadn’t done what you’d asked, if I’d let all of that happen. I hated that you were right. But I accepted it. It’s just… I was still doing something wrong and… it made me miserable. I didn’t know which way was up anymore. I was trying to be someone new, someone better, someone worthy… and I wasn’t sure if becoming an assassin was any of those things. I was afraid I’d be damned for good by giving in to this.”

They bumped into another couple. The dancing nobleman issued a sharp rebuke, which Gaius took in stride, and he resumed his focus, taking her through the steps and gliding in time with the music once again, this time a significant distance away from the crowd.

“I asked you because I trusted you,” she said after a long silence, “I trust you the most. You have the necessary skills and the highest likelihood of success. And I know what you’re capable of. You can do what others can’t.”

He looked away from her, “And I’m the most expendable.”

“No!” She said quickly, and then softer, gripping him tightly by the shoulder, “No, I would never have let that happen. I had a plan. You must know I had a plan. I couldn’t bear to live with myself if anything happened to you. Truth is, if you hadn’t gone, I would have done it myself. But… I just didn’t know how. Everything could point back to me, too easily.”

“I guess it’s good that I went, then.”

“Change back,” she pleaded quietly, “I know it’s selfish of me, but I can’t bear having you angry at me anymore. It hurts, to have you look at me and see someone to despise. I gave the order, so let the blame for their death be mine. Please change back. I know I deserve your anger, but I’m begging you to go back to being a thief.”

“And have someone else dirty their hands?” He shook his head, “I’m already in this deep. I may as well continue.”

“Gaius, _please_.”

“Let me admit one more thing,” he said, stepping to the side to twirl her once more, resuming once they came together again, “I… think it’s necessary for me to be an assassin. Someone has to be, and seeing as it’s already me, I will carry the role. Well, me and Lon’Qu. I can compensate for what he lacks and vice versa.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“It took me a long time to figure it out. Like I said, I didn’t know which way was up. But honestly, I can’t regret any decision I’ve made. Joining up, Rothesberg, Meridia… This must be the right thing to do. And if continuing means keeping you and everyone else safe, then… I’ve made my peace with it. And now I’m… well, I’m trying to make my peace with you. As for what you deserve, well—”

With a final refrain, the music ended. Couples around them applauded. Frederick cut in, offering a hand to Robin as he bowed, glancing at Gaius with some irritation.

In reply, Gaius merely shrugged, pulling away, and disappearing into the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> c o m m e n t p l s


	41. interlude ix

Her head was spinning. 

It wasn’t the room and it wasn’t Frederick’s masterful lead. It was the realisation that Gaius didn’t seem to hate her anymore. That he, in fact, still respected her and would obey her word. Frederick was the best dancer in the room and she could barely pay attention.

“Did something happen?” He asked, tightening his grip on her hand as he changed the direction of their turn.

“I beg your pardon?” 

“You were laughing when you were dancing with Donnel. Come Gaius, however… I don’t know about him, but as for me, there’s nothing worse than having a beautiful woman in your arms who isn’t smiling.”

Touched, her expression softened and he smiled to see his words take effect.

“I’m sorry, Frederick,” she murmured up at him, “I can barely keep up with everything that’s happening recently. I feel like the world has turned and I’m still frozen in place.”

“That’s certainly what happens when you work too hard and don’t trust your subordinates enough,” he said primly, sending her into a gentle twirl, “I was under the impression that you wanted to let your hair down at the ball tonight.”

“I did. I do,” she sighed, allowing Frederick to pull her closer, “Have I really been that incorrigible?”

“Incorrigible and more,” he nodded, “You’ve been an absolute wildebeest to work with.”

Robin couldn’t help the laugh in her gasp, “ _Frederick_!”

“It’s true,” he continued grimly, “Were it not for my liege lord, I would have slain you a fortnight ago and prepared you for a roast.”

“You’re horrible,” she laughed, feeling some levity, “I doubt I’d have tasted good, anyhow.”

“If what you taste like resembles even remotely what you look like…” 

This time, a scandalous gasp, “Frederick. Are you _flirting_ with me?”

Frederick didn’t smirk, but his graceful smile had a sly edge, “I… may have had a few drinks tonight.”

“I suppose I wasn’t the only who wanted to let my hair down,” Robin all but stammered, certain that a furious blush was taking over, “I apologise if I’d not taken notice of your attentions before.”

“You’re certainly remedying that error now,” he sounded pleased, “And I am flattered that you summoned me for a dance.”

“You’re an excellent partner. You make it fun.”

“My life’s purpose fulfilled.”

She chuckled, “Isn’t your life’s purpose ensuring that Chrom ascends, marries and produces a fruitful line of heirs?”

“One can have more than one purpose in life.”

“Can _you_?”

Frederick scoffed. Instead, he changed the direction of their turn and twirled her again.

“Thanks Frederick,” she murmured, “You may be an absolute prat sometimes, but you really pull through when I need you.”

“I’m aware that our meeting was… less than ideal. But I’m afraid I still cannot apologise for it.”

She laughed, “You wouldn’t be you if you did.”

He demurred. “Nevertheless, I hope we can agree that… things are different now.”

“They are.”

“And perhaps… they might be even more different in the future?”

The music ended then, and so did the dance, but Robin could only stare up at Frederick in surprise as the room applauded around them.

And – this was honestly happening too often for her liking – that’s when she was bodily hauled away from Frederick onto a dark balcony, slammed up against the wall, and kissed within an inch of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops my hand slipped


	42. Chapter 42

“You deserve to be kissed,” he said bluntly, the effect muted somewhat by the fact that he was out of breath and flushed red, “That’s what I wanted to say earlier. And then it occurred to me that some other guys probably felt that way too, given how the Stiff had his paws all over you. And then I realised, there’s no way I’d be okay with that. But if I didn’t do something, it _would_ be some other guy and… I’m definitely not okay with that. Not without trying, at least. And I’m babbling now. Sorry if that came out of nowhere. Just… sorry if you didn’t want me to kiss you. Did you want me to kiss you?”

“Huh?” Robin asked him intelligently, a hand still touching her lips as she looked up at him in a daze.

“Was that,” he suddenly realised something, feeling even hotter under his collar, “Did I take your first kiss? Or was that… was that the first kiss you remember?”

She turned red to the tips of her fingers and didn’t answer.

“I’m going about this wrong way,” Gaius inhaled slowly, running a hand down his face and counting backwards from ten, “As you can probably tell, I’ve… I’ve got a thing for you. I’ve got it pretty bad, in fact. And I probably should have planned this whole thing better, but… I don’t know. Just… here, look at this.”

He took her hand and placed a ring in the middle of her palm.

Tentatively, as if it was the most precious thing in the world, she gripped it between her thumb and index finger, turning it over slowly to inspect it under the soft light of the moon.

“… It’s beautiful,” she said, eyes flickering up timidly, “It’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Somehow, it made him relieved. Gaius sighed, scratching the back of his neck, “That’s… good. Because I… I made that for you. Ages ago, actually.”

“Ages...? Why?”

“Because I love you.”

She froze up at his blurted admission and Gaius was trying his best to ignore the instinct to run away screaming.

“Head over heels for you, in fact. Have been for a… a long while now. And I… well I wanna know if you might feel anything back? Even just a little?”

“I think I need to sit down,” she sounded just a bit faint, “I can safely say I did not see any of this coming.”

He was starting to get restless, “Never mind all of that. How do you feel about me?”

“I don’t know if there’s a single emotion I’m _not_ feeling right now.”

“Look, do I need to kiss you again to make sure?”

She reddened further, if that were even possible, and taking that as an affirmative, Gaius swooped in, cupping Robin by the chin and kissed her again, gentler this time.

She let out a small distressed sound, but at no point did she push him away. Small victories.

When they parted, she seemed to be looking at everything but him. Which was… well, familiar enough.

“So?” He asked insistently, “How are you feeling? Annoyed? Disgusted? Euphoric?” 

“Weak in the knees,” was the muttered answer.

“I can take that,” he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, parting briefly just to say, “Just in case your knees aren’t up to the job,” before he all but pressed her up against the wall and kissed her like he’d imagined for so long. He was feeling giddy. He needed to pinch himself. If this was another daydream, he was going to explode. But it definitely wasn’t a daydream, because usually those got naughty very quickly and for some reason he was fully intent on being a gentleman. 

At least, until he felt a gentle pressure against his chest. Dutifully he ended the kiss, despite the desire to press further. If this would be the last one they ever shared, well, at least he’d snuck two more in than he’d originally planned.

“It’s occurred to me,” she said, voice only slightly shaky and breathless from the kiss, holding up the band in her hand between them, “That Ylissian tradition dictates that the gift of a ring is usually to indicate a betrothal.”

“… and?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Well, I’m not asking you to the harvest festival,” he muttered before clearing his throat, “Yes, I’m asking.”

“And what answer are you expecting from me?”

He scowled at her, “What guy makes a ring from scratch just to hear someone say ‘no’? Look, Bubbles, if you don’t like me, and if you’re not going to marry me, stop dragging this out and just say it to my face already.”

“It’s just that I’m waiting.”

“For _what?_ ”

“For you to tell me what I get in exchange for agreeing to marry you.”

Oh. _Oh._ The _minx_. She was doing the exact same thing he had been when he’d harassed her following the Bathing Tent Incident. And he was starting to understand why she’d been so mad. This was mortifying as hell, don’t even talk about frustrating. But.

But.

It wasn’t a no. 

“… What do you want?” 

“You’re really letting me dictate this?”

“I have no idea what it would take to get you to say yes. So, yeah, what would be worth marrying me?”

“... a life together. For us to be side-by-side, always.”

His heart was in his throat, “I… guess?”

The hint of a smile vanished, “That’s too much to ask.”

“I’d walk over coals for you,” he blurted out, “I’d rob a king and strip naked if you just asked. Being together is a piece of cake in comparison. I mean, I’d obviously kill for you (sorry, bad joke), but if that’s what you want, I’ll do it. I-I’d do anything for you, honestly. I _love_ you. So, just, stop _dancing_ around it and _tell me_ —”

Robin jerked Gaius forward by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him, shutting him up.

She pulled back only a moment later, before he could really gather his wits about him again. 

“Of course, I’ll marry you,” she murmured against his lips, “I’ve been smitten with you for ages. Every time I came close, you pushed me away. And after all that’s happened, I was terrified that you hated me.”

“I do hate you,” he grumbled, plucking the ring away from her grip to slip it over her finger, winding his arms around her to wrap her up in an embrace, “And if we don’t spend the rest of this evening trying to cause a scandal, the ring comes back with me.”

“With me attached, I hope?”

“I suppose that depends entirely on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like, please comment *gun fingers*


	43. interlude x

Despite the demand to cause a scandal, Gaius had expertly manoeuvred them into the royal gardens where they could get some privacy as he seemed to be fully intent in making use of the distraction of the ball to spend the rest of the night in liplock against the shimmering moonlit scenery and the heady scent of roses. It was honestly too romantic. Robin was absolutely giddy with it.

Now that she had her wits about her, she could actually savour the moment.

“I never noticed before,” she murmured, running a hand down the lapel of Gaius’ coat once they parted, “But you’re awfully handsome tonight, aren’t you?”

As expected, Gaius sniffed imperiously at the notion, “I’ll have you know, I’ve always been distressingly handsome.”

She took the bait and laughed, “And I’ll have you know that you’re usually coated in cookie crumbs. Before Cordelia came into the picture, you constantly looked like you’d woken up in a sewer.”

“Can’t be a hero without a tragic flaw,” he said without inflection, which made her snort. Gaius glanced down at his appearance, running a hand down his polished buttons absently, “I look that different, huh?” 

“Distressingly handsome,” she assured, “I’m absolutely weak in the knees.”

He smiled at her, “I thought that was because of my kissing technique.”

“Well, now I positively can’t stand unassisted.”

And he did look ridiculously different. Like Donnel, he’d discovered pomade and had combed his hair back neatly, parted to the side. Coupled with the lack of bandanna, his handsome face (scrubbed and shaven clean) was in full view. He was tucked into an elegant midnight-coloured waistcoat and form-fitting blue velvet coat with lapels embroidered in silver thread. His jabot was pinned in place with a round blue stone set in silver. His shoes even had a silver buckle on it. A buckle! Would wonders never cease?

“Careful, salivate any further and I’ll have to present myself on a platter.”

Robin blinked out of her thoughts, noting the coy look on his face even as he didn’t attempt to hide the fact that he was preening under her attention. 

“I just never pictured you all dressed up,” she finally said, “I know I made you promise me a dance, but I’d never really thought about you actually attending the ball.”

“Couldn’t very well show up in my skivvies, could I?” He pointed out disinterestedly, “I figure you’d want a partner who wouldn’t embarrass you.”

Robin raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You’ve gone above and beyond. I couldn’t even pick you out of a crowd, and you look striking as anything. In fact, you look like a nobleman. Maribelle would have a field day.”

“Trust me, she did,” he rolled his eyes, and despite the fact that Robin was the one who brought her up, she felt a pang of jealousy at the thought that Maribelle had been the one behind his transformation. Not to mention, prior to this, Cordelia too… 

“So? I take it you like it?”

“Pardon?”

He looked impatient, “I didn’t get deloused by the seamstress from hell just so that you wouldn’t, y’know…”

Robin cleared her throat, knowing full well that she was jealous and feeling a bit pathetic for it, especially given how obvious it was that he’d done everything for her benefit, and reddened at her admission, “You’re… honestly, you really are distressingly handsome. I wish I had a portrait of you right now for safekeeping.”

“Oh,” he said, blinking once, before a slightly stupid grin took over, “Oh. Well, uh, likewise.”

It was Robin’s turn to roll her eyes, “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Don’t I though?” He asked, pulling her closer by the waist, expression fond, “As I seem to recall, you’re wearing my ring.”

“True enough,” she replied in amusement.

“And besides… there’s only thing more terrible than you wearing that ridiculously pretty dress.”

“And what would that be?”

“Wearing it in full view of other men.”

It was her turn to give him a goofy smile, “It bothers you, does it?”

“Too much romance in the air. I was afraid you might get carried away by it and end up with some other guy.”

“We certainly can’t have that.”

“Too right,” he said, cupping her gently by the chin and tilting her head back, “Especially when you’re also wearing my necklace.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

“I notice everything about you,” he said, and then leaned in for another kiss.


	44. Chapter 44

“ENGAGED?!”

Robin cupped her right ear, smile growing slightly strained, “… yes, we’re engaged.”

“With _him_?!”

“Hey!”

“Yes, with Gaius,” she said all-too-patiently, “He proposed last night, at the ball.”

“And you accepted?!”

Gaius narrowed his eyes, “Blue, do you have a problem you want to discuss with the business end of my sword?” 

“You don’t understand,” he said with rising panic, effectively quashing any attempts Frederick had at defending his lord, “With Robin out of the marriage pool, I’m as good as dead!”

“You charmer,” she rolled her eyes, “How could I ever have chosen someone else?”

“Are you sure you and me can’t work? There’s a lot of perks to being queen. There’s a library, an army of scribes, fancy cheeses.”

“And I’m sure whoever your queen turns out to be will be _very_ pleased with your fancy cheeses.”

“No, no, no! How could this happen?”

Robin quirked a brow, “As I recall, the purpose of the ball last night was to procure a spouse.”

“Not for _you_! Just— No sense will get through to her,” Chrom was all but distraught, “Frederick, how can I make her understand?” 

Fortunately, Lissa had the grace to end his panicked tirade, “Forget this oaf. Congratulations, you two! Proposing at the ball? How romantic!”

Robin smiled warmly, “Thank you, Lissa. It _was_ very romantic, come to think of it.”

“Hey! I’m a romantic guy.”

“So? When’s the wedding going to be?”

“Soon as possible, obviously,” Gaius said, eyeing both Chrom and Frederick warily, “Can’t have Robin changing her mind.”

Her scoff was indignant, “I could say the same for you!”

Gaius made a face, “You do realise that I’m Cinderella in this Cinderella story, right? Dressed by a fairy godmother, popped in before midnight, stole you away from your bevy of suitors, left you with a trinket?”

Lissa giggled even as the others paused to turn that sentence over in their heads, “I’m happy for the both of you. And I know exactly what my wedding gift will be.”

Gaius turned his wary gaze on the princess, “I’m afraid I’ll have to take the opportunity here to decline anything remotely frog-related.”

She laughed, “You’d think that, wouldn’t you? No, my gift is going to be arranging your ceremony.”

Robin gave her a gentle smile, “I appreciate that, Lissa. You really don’t have to go to any lengths. A simple ritual presided by Libra will suffice.”

“Oh, that’s what you think,” she grinned, “But I think you’re fundamentally misunderstanding me.”

“Am I? What am I misunderstanding?”

“When a crown princess tells you she’s organising your wedding, what that means is that yours will be a wedding celebrated by the state.”

There was a long pause.

“Ex _cuse_ me?”

“You can’t possibly be—”

“Even the Exalt has yet to—”

“All right, be at peace,” Lissa said with such grace and dignity that it stunned the room into silence, “This is a boon that I wish to bequeath upon the Grand Master of Ylisse, without whom we would have lost the war. Is there something wrong with that?”

And, truly, the others had no arguments.

Well, save Gaius.

“Princess,” he began patiently, “She may be the Grand Master, but I’m just a dirty old thief. I’m Cinderella, remember? No one is going to be happy knowing they’re celebrating the union between the royal tactician and a criminal.”

“Listen up, Cinderella,” Lissa narrowed her eyes, “The Grand Master isn’t marrying some random vagrant she picked up off the street. You’re a Shepherd, aren’t you? Who cares about the fine print! I’m the crown princess, for crying out loud. If I say I’m giving you a wedding, the only thing I want to hear is ‘ _Thank you, Your Highness!_ ’ and ‘ _When do we pick out the décor, Your Highness?_ ’. Are we clear?”

Still looking like the rug had been pulled out from under her, Robin could only say, “Thank you, Your Highness.”


	45. Chapter 45

“We’ve been summoned to Regna Ferox.”

Gaius looked up at Frederick, who stood in the entryway of the barracks. He set down his sword, which he had been sharpening, to listen.

“There is some suspicious activity on the border that the Khan wish to discuss. A retinue will follow the Exalt,” he rattled off a list of names, of which Gaius was one, “We leave on the morrow. That is all.”

“Too bad,” Stahl clapped him on the shoulder, “I guess the wedding will have to wait until this is sorted.”

“It’s not like we’re getting married tomorrow,” he rolled his eyes, “Well, worse comes to worst, we could always elope.”

There was a collective gasp among the women, “Don’t you dare!”

Gaius shrugged.

“Gaius, you beast. You only marry once in your life, and you have to make it count!”

“Exactly!”

“Robin needs the best dress, the best cake and the nicest choir!”

“There needs to be wine! Plenty of wine! Lots of food! And dancing!”

“You need to be surrounded by your loved ones as they celebrate you!”

“It has to be the greatest day of your lives!”

“Don’t you dare elope! I want to help Robin get married!”

“What she said!”

Simultaneously taking copious mental notes and also realising he’d unleashed a can of worms, Gaius wisely retreated from the barracks.

“Gaius, a word?”

… only to walk into Frederick.

Well, this had to happen sooner or later. Gaius took a breath and nodded, falling into step beside Frederick, who led him towards the palace courtyard.

“I never got the opportunity to congratulate you,” he said evenly, which made Gaius snap his eyes to the knight’s, “You’re a lucky man.”

“Thanks, Frederick. I... appreciate that. Though I can’t apologise for it.”

He let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head, “You’ve nothing to apologise for.”

Well then. “Good.”

“I’ve a gift of my own,” he held out his hand and dropped a heavy coin purse into Gaius’ palm. It was customary in Ylisse. Gaius weighed it briefly before pocketing it, smiling at the man, “Should you desire a wedding suit or a sword, I hope you will view it as my contribution. There are many tribulations to be had in forging a new life together with the one you love. I hope this will provide the necessary assistance.”

“Thank you,” he said, meaning it. Frederick clapped him once on the shoulder, smiling again, and walked off.


	46. Chapter 46

"Hey, sweet thing."

Robin looked up from her book, smiling at Gaius as he ducked into her study, "Hello, Gaius."

"What? No affectionate nickname for your fiancee?"

Her smile widened at the mention of 'fiancee', which he'd intended, "I can't think of anything off the top of my head."

"Oh, there's loads. Sugar, sweetheart, honey, cookie, pumpkin--" That's when he noticed Lon'Qu in the corner, glaring at a poor stack of books as he pointedly did not look in their direction, "-- Potatoes."

Robin laughed, "Potato? That's uncharacteristic of you."

"No, I mean, Potatoes is here," he pointed at Lon'Qu, who only seemed to glare harder, "Am I interrupting something?"

Surprised - at the nickname or the presence of the man, he wasn't sure - Robin craned her neck towards Lon'Qu, "Nothing critical. Just discussing dinner."

"You're not going to be involved, are you?"

She whipped her head round and narrowed her eyes at him, "I resent that implication."

"Have you tried your own cooking?"

She scowled but said nothing.

"All right," Gaius took the seat beside Robin and leaned against the desk she'd placed her book, "What's for dinner?"

"Stew," Lon'Qu said, still cataloging book titles in his stack, fists clenched on his knees as he sat ramrod straight, "Venison."

"Nice. Did you catch it yourself?"

"During archery practice."

"That's great. Hey, Lon'Qu?"

"What?"

"Could you give us some privacy?"

He shot up to his feet and replaced his sword at his hip, "Finally," he muttered, and he was out of the room in an instant.

"Really, Gaius?" She asked him, arching a brow.

"I'm sorry, did you want to watch him squirm more?" 

"Actually, yes."

"My deepest apologies," he said without a hint of remorse, leaning in closer, "How ever could I make it up to you?"

"Hmm. I'll certainly have to think about it."

He wanted desperately to kiss her, but for the sake of propriety, he refrained. They weren't married yet. This was still the palace and she was working.

"Well, believe it or not, I actually did come here with something to discuss."

"Oh?" Robin leaned back in her chair, "Is it to do with our journey?"

"Nah. Wedding stuff."

Her smile took on an edge of amusement, "I'm all ears."

"Well, I mean... given that, y'know, the princess has been up in arms about it... you're not having second thoughts? Is it what you want?" _All that exposure, all those eyes on you, all the unneeded extravagance_ , he thought but didn't say.

Her expression turned thoughtful, "I'll be honest, I'm not sure what I want."

"No?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure how a wedding is supposed to be. I mean, I thought it was just the ceremony where a priest marries us. I didn't think there'd be other parts to it."

 _Because of her memories_ , the realisation was sinking in, "What do you think of all the bells and whistles?"

"I... suppose it sounds nice," she sounded a bit embarrassed, which he wished she wouldn't be, "I was informed an Ylissian wedding involves a beautiful dress, a large cake and dancing, in the company of friends and family."

"It does. Do you want all that?"

"Well..." She hesitated, "Do you?"

 _Because of her memories_.

"Yes."


	47. Chapter 47

Gaius was beginning to regret not marrying Robin before they left the capital.

How could he have forgotten? She was a busy woman, the busiest woman, in fact. The only time they'd carved out together before they got engaged was due to little pockets of freedom in which they'd negotiated their company. Mostly, it had been him seeking her out during her more solitary duties and sitting with her.

His problem was twofold:

First, her solitary duties had decreased, and more often than not, she was conferring with either Chrom or Frederick about the movement of the troops. He understood their triumvirate, but that didn't mean he had to like leaving her to his two biggest rivals in the camp. He barely saw her at all, she was so busy. It rankled. And it wasn't like he didn't have his own duties to attend to. Lon'Qu was in serious need of training.

Second, whereas he'd entertained only the first stirrings of affection in the past, now that his feelings were requited, he found it difficult to keep himself from touching her and kissing her whenever he found himself in her company, and while that made him want to do even more, he also realised they weren't actually married yet. Some of the close contact he'd initiated was... a touch too bold for Ylissian customs, not that she knew. He really wanted to be a gentleman about this. 

It was pure agony. If they'd been married, at the very least, they could share a blasted tent at night. Nowadays, he was lucky if he so much as glimpsed her in the day time.

There had to be _some_ way.


	48. Chapter 48

The inspiration struck him like a bolt out of the blue.

It had started innocently enough. Whenever Robin was nearby, Gaius had eyes for no one else, quietly watching her with his usual poker face as she wrinkled her nose at Vaike, or laughed with Olivia, or chewed her lip thoughtfully whilst thumbing through a tome. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was a good thing he was a thief rather than a spy, because he would never get any work done otherwise. 

As he idly considered how soft her hair looked under the mid-morning sun, she was approached by Donnel, with whom she exchanged a few friendly words before he left her with something. Curious, Gaius not so subtly craned his neck to get a better look, only to find Robin unfolding wax paper, breaking a piece of something off, and then popping it into her mouth.

He went absolutely still.

The cogs began to turn in his head, whirring faster and faster until he swore that steam was probably rising from his ears. He’d been thinking and thinking and _thinking_ about how to manage his new little problem now that he and Robin were an item. He’d been worried about coming on too strong, but keeping his distance also posed a set of issues. And now, well.

This was it. This was _it_.

He watched and waited until she disappeared into her tent. And then, casual as you like, he strolled across camp like he had nothing better to do (nothing could be further from the truth) and quietly entered after Robin, making certain to seal the flap.

That was when she turned, surprise turning into a look of genuine pleasure (and wasn’t that something).

“Gaius! What brings you here?”

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages,” he said, closing the gap between them in three steps and kissing the living daylights out of her.

She had stiffened at first, shocked and confused, but Gaius’ eager kissing and nipping and licking made her succumb and soon she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to push her down onto her cot. The chocolate in her mouth was melting between them, and Gaius allowed himself the liberty of sliding one of his hands under her camisole and gliding across the skin of her stomach. The touch made her shiver, and he felt her hands move to his shoulder blades, grip tightening in his cloak.

He pulled back only to lick his lips before he greedily dipped down again, changing the angle of the kiss and deepening it, lowering his body onto hers and nudging her legs apart so they could be pressed flush together. He felt a hand in his hair, gripping tightly enough to hurt, but he honestly couldn’t care as he grabbed her ass and squeezed.

Long after the taste of chocolate had disappeared completely did Gaius finally pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he panted softly.

Beneath him, Robin was absolutely rumpled, her hair and clothes in disarray, eyes unfocused and lips red and swollen, shining from saliva, chest rising and falling with exertion. She looked like she had been _tumbled_ , by some kind of barbarian.

It made him feel both satisfied and inordinately excited. 

“Wh… What was _that_ all about…? Not that I’m complaining,” she asked breathlessly, which did _things_ to him, but he ignored it in favour of licking his lips as he looked down at her. It could have been his imagination, but her face seemed to redden at the action.

“As I said, something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time,” he gracefully swung his legs off her and stood, offering her his hand, “Sorry if I startled you.”

She accepted, standing on wobbly knees, and so he placed a hand securely on the small of her back. Y’know, for support. 

“I wouldn’t be sorry if I were you,” she said, still winded and looking at him like he was something marvellous, and that made him puff up with pride and smugness, “And I’m not sure why you had to wait so long to do that, given that… well, we’re betrothed now. I’m hardly going to turn you away from a kiss (er, if we can call what just happened a kiss). What changed?”

“Ah, well,” he smiled wryly, “I have the strength to withstand many things, but my pretty fiancée eating chocolate? My heart would have to be made of stone.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed all the same, “I should have known.”

“I can’t really help it,” he sighed against her ear as he enveloped her into an intimate embrace, nuzzling into her hair, “You’re so distracting already. You and sweets? You _eating_ sweets? It’s enough to drive a man crazy.”

“I’m distracting, am I?” She asked coyly.

“Mm, that’s right. I should only be so lucky we aren’t often paired up in battle. If I weren’t trying to constantly protect you, I’m sure I’d get stabbed while trying to get a good eyeful of your ass.”

Robin gasped even as she dissolved into a fit of laughter, protesting unconvincingly against his chest, and she when tipped her head up to smile at him, he could only smile back and graciously accept the peck she gave him on the lips.

“Is there a reason you’re waiting, then?” Robin asked with an arched brow, “Or was chocolate really the only trigger point? I must say, I’m not sure if I’m altogether happy to hear that.”

“Bubbles, babe, if I had it my way, we’d never leave your tent,” and oh, how her eyes widened at that admission, “And think of the scandal of us, living in sin. No, I may be a brigand and a rogue and incredibly handsome, but I want to do this one thing right. I want to do right by _you_. I’d sooner let myself get strung up than have anyone say a bad word against you.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he raised a hand up to halt her, “Believe me when I tell you it’s better to wait until we’re married. And, uh, to limit myself to… well, ahem…” For all his bravado, he found himself unable to look her in the eye as he said the crucial words, “ _Partaking_ , if you will, while you’re… partaking.”

Robin blinked at him several times, processing the words. She seemed bewildered, and then dubious.

“Gaius, darling… I barely eat sweets.”

“Yup.”

“Er… Are you implying that eating a sweet is a… a signal for us to… spend some time together?”

“Trust me, Bubbles,” he said in a deadpan, “Even if you don’t mean for it, I don’t think I could stop myself from throwing myself at you if you so much as lick a bonbon. So my advice is to partake _strategically_ , and preferably near tents or other enclosures.”

“You’re insufferable,” she murmured with a helpless sigh, “But I _am_ a tactician…”


End file.
